A Tangled Web Pt. 5: How Much Is Too Much?
by ordinaryguy2
Summary: Battle lines are being drawn against the Borg once again. This time we see heroes from Babylon 5/Crusade, Smallville, Highlander, Touched By An Angel, Brimstone, X-Files, Pretender and many more. Including a number of characters from law enforcement and d
1. Default Chapter

A TANGLED WEB PART 5: HOW MUCH IS TOO MUCH?  
  
By Charlie Nelson ordinaryguy2@Juno.com  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters written in this story. All major and even some minor characters are owned by rich corporations and I am just borrowing them for this story. Also, I am not making any money by writing this story. I write this for the fun of it as well as to better my creative instinct and grammatical skills.  
  
Classification: Crossover I think I should explain that part of what I am trying to do with this story is to mix as many storylines together as possible and still make it interesting and true to the characters. The challenge to myself is to effectively blend some old sci-fi with some new sci-fi shows and maybe even a movie or two. But just those that I am familiar with. Another challenge I have is trying to get reviews from those that read my work.  
  
This story will include many crossovers starting with DOCTOR WHO, SLIDERS and STAR TREK. Star Trek, who will always be the main contributor in these stories. This part of my story will also star SMALLVILLE, HIGHLANDER, 7 DAYS, PRETENDER, TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL, BRIMSTONE, BABYLON 5 and its offshoot series, CRUSADE, X-FILES, PRETENDER and more. If anyone is unfamiliar with any of these shows I recommend that they look them up on the Internet. It will help and the information is out there on them. Think of it as a learning experience.  
  
Author's Note: I don't exactly agree with the exact theology of the shows TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL and BRIMSTONE but I will try to use the guidelines of the two shows for continuity purposes. Most of my disagreements are with the show BRIMSTONE, in case you are wondering. I believe that hell is a one way trip and that even the devil suffers there. As for TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL, I think there should be a stronger emphasis on Jesus as well. I know the show stresses that God loves people but I wish it would also stress the fact that God wants a relationship with them as well.  
  
Highlander - I'm following the series here, not the confusing, messed up continuity of the movies so Conner MacLeod is alive.  
  
X-Files - Mulder and Scully still work together and were never separated.  
  
Note: I planned this out long time ago to be my major major crossover. So don't say I didn't warn you.  
  
I will try to make everything as clear and interesting as possible. Please send e-mail with advice on how to better my writing style and story. I do not claim to be a great writer, but with good and thorough critiquing I can become a better one.  
  
Side note: Love the reviews. Keep them coming.  
  
Warning: There will be some character deaths.  
  
Special thanks to Jen for proofreading for me. And also for the advice provided by Phantom Dennis and AlbertG. I also recommend you check out their stories as well.  
  
Special Challenge: This story will also have a large number of law enforcement type people who will either have very short roles or may be major characters. You'll have to what to see who will be major and who will be minor. My challenge to you, dear reader, if you choose to accept it, will be to try to remember who the characters were and what shows they were on. I will include a list of the detectives and private investigators and the shows they stared in at the bottom of the story so that you can see how many you got right. I'll also let you to try figure out which ones are going to survive the Borg encounter,  
  
Summary: What came before. The sliders were traveling between worlds and bumped into the Doctor's TARDIS, thus getting bounced into the 24th century of the Star Trek universe where the Borg got a hold of the Sliding technology thanks to interference from Q. Now the Borg are in orbit around the Earth's sun sending drones out into the multiverse, spreading themselves around to take over new frontiers. Meanwhile, Q was forced by the Q Continuum to fix the problem by recruiting others to stop the spread of the Borg for him. Three universes have been cleansed of the infestation and this is the fourth. So sit right back and read the tale.  
  
  
  
A Tangled Web Part 5: How much is too much?  
  
By Charlie Nelson ordinaryguy2@Juno.com  
  
DEEP SPACE NINE, CURRENTLY ORBITING EARTH People filled Quark's bar in dread and anticipation as the two members of the Q continuum prepared to make their next round of selections. A few sat at the bar waiting their turn with a drink to soothe their nerves.  
  
Retired Admiral Leonard McCoy slowly shuffled into the bar with the aid of a yawning Lt. Barclay. McCoy had Barclay lead him over to the bar and then, with some frustration and a little loss of dignity on the part of the admiral, Barclay helped him onto the barstool.  
  
Barclay immediately regretted the decision once his sleepy eyes reregistered the sight of Morn on one side of the admiral and Worf on the other. "Uh, sir? Um, perhaps it would be better if, ah, if you sat at the table with the other admirals?"  
  
Quark limped over. He looked horrible even for a Ferengi. His beating at the hands of Buffy and the Stormtroopers could still be seen to some extent on his features. Dr. Bashir had recommended lots of bed rest but the Ferengi was not about to abandon his bar yet again while it had more potential customers inside than it had had in years. Besides, he noticed that many of the patrons came up to order a drink just so they could look at his bruises. "What will you have?"  
  
"A glass of prune juice."  
  
Both individuals on either side of the legendary 'Bones' reacted to his drink of choice. Morn, the alien seated to his right, turned away with a look of disgust on his face. Worf, however, was shocked as he looked over the ancient man before him. "You drink prune juice?"  
  
McCoy examined the Klingon. He knew who Worf was. He had been sure to keep track of Starfleet's first Klingon cadet and his career. "It's what keeps me going," as he accepted his glass from Quark. "I'm over a hundred and forty years old; I can use all the help I can get." McCoy's colon was replaced annually with a replicated copy because his old body was just too old to keep everything working properly.  
  
"I, also, am drinking prune juice," the Klingon declared to McCoy's amusement. The warrior then held out his cup to make a toast. "To warriors and their battles!"  
  
Not to outdone, McCoy held his glass out as far as he dared. "May it all work out in the end!"  
  
Barclay's nervousness was getting the better of him. Even though he knew Worf pretty well, Barclay still felt it would be much safer if he could just get the McCoy over to the table that had been set up for the admirals. "Sir? Ah, that is, well, um, shouldn't we, er--"  
  
McCoy sighed as he set down his drink. He slowly slid off the barstool and Barclay helped him to the ground. "Just when I finally find a drinking partner I can stand, you gotta interrupt me. Not that anyone is actually goin' to let me make any important decisions." He caught a glimpse of Barclay's sad puppy dog-like face out of the corner of his eye and figured he should say something to make amends. "Still it is one of the best seats in the house. Lot easier sittin' on than those barstools."  
  
---  
  
Dr. Banner sat at the other end of the bar while he studied his surrounding and wide variety of aliens around him. In his hand he nursed a bottle of root beer that a short, large lobed alien named Rom had bought for him. Banner's eyes scanned everything around him. He tried to retain a scientific eye for the experience but he couldn't help a child-like exuberant smile from coming to his face.  
  
"You're doing it again," commented Guinin with a Cheshire grin.  
  
"Sorry," mumbled the twentieth century scientist as he tried to cover his smile with his hands. "I feel like a kid on his first trip to Disney World."  
  
Guinin nodded in understanding. "I always liked the teacup ride myself."  
  
Banner didn't even bother to ask. "So why did Dr. Crusher run off to talk to that bald man in the red and black uniform?" Beverly had pulled Picard out into Promenade area as soon as they had all arrived. Luckily for Banner, Beverly had made sure to hand Dr. Banner off to Guinan before she left. He was rather grateful for that. He had noticed two alien women, who Guinan had said were Klingons, eyeing him hungrily. He was pretty sure that if Guinan were not there he just might be in trouble.  
  
"Well, just before Beverly left here, Captain Picard more or less openly declared his feelings for her."  
  
"Oh," Banner answered with little enthusiasm.  
  
"But don't despair. There are plenty of other girls available on the space station. Including me," she said with a smile.  
  
"Oh really," he said with a smile of his own. "And you wouldn't mind going out with a retro guy like me? Help me catch on to all the things this century has to offer? Could take a lot of time?"  
  
She laughed. "Trust me. I've got time. And unlike Beverly, I'm not planning to run off somewhere with some other man either."  
  
"Well, that sounds inter--" There was a flash and Guinan was gone. Banner was left alone with his carbonated soda. "I knew it was too good to be true."  
  
---  
  
Guinin looked about herself to get her bearings. She was still in Quark's bar. She had just been teleported across the room. And Q was right in front of her. "Q! You-You-You have the timing of a Romulan and the finesse of a Klingon!" She would have hit him if he hadn't disappeared from where he was and reappeared behind a very amused Q2.  
  
"Well, sorry if I though you would make an effective member of a Borg fighting team!" shot back Q.  
  
Guinin froze. "You choose me?" She suddenly thought of the opportunity of getting to fight the Borg herself. The very ones who had literally decimated her people and the planet of her birth, forcing the survivors to scatter around the galaxy. There is an old Earth proverb that says revenge is a dish best served cold. Guinin liked hers on a plate red hot with lots of spices. "About time."  
  
"O'Brien to Captain Sisko," came a call through Sisko's comm badge.  
  
"Sisko here." He ignored Q's look of disdain. Sisko had been consulting with Odo about all the new arrangements on the station now that it was orbiting Earth and had over sixty-eight percent of its regular crew replaced just before it was moved. Things were mostly running smoothly so far but every now and then a problem would occur that the regular technicians would not have let happen. Deep Space Nine was such a massive piece of machinery that had been pieced together with a wide variety of different technologies that if you hadn't already been making yourself familiar with it for a few years, then you would have to be a Borg drone to understand how everything worked the way that it did. "What is it now?"  
  
"We have a small vessel approaching that is ignoring all our hails to turn away. We register one life sign. Human. Male."  
  
"Weapons?"  
  
"None activated. And none that would be effective if they were activated."  
  
"Any ideas to his intent?"  
  
"Nothing so far. Wait a minute! His transportor is activated!"  
  
"Where is-" He didn't have to complete his question as an older heavyset man materialized over next to one of the crewmembers of the Enterprise. "Never mind, O'Brien. We have him here. Sisko out."  
  
"Geordi!"  
  
"Commander Scott?" Geordi stared at the legendary engineer in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Heard the Enterprise was in a spot of trouble so I came over to lend a hand," he explained as if it were no big deal. "I knew you would be where the trouble was so I tracked you down to this station by your new eyes."  
  
"My eyes?" Geordi didn't like the thought that someone could track down his position by searching for his new prosthetic eyes that had replaced his VISOR, even if that someone was the creative Montgomery Scott. "Look, I'd love to hear all about it but we really got a problem here. You shouldn't have come."  
  
"Ah, lad. When you hear your friends are in trouble, what else is there for you to do but to come help 'em out?"  
  
"I agree," commented Q2. "I like this humans attitude. I choose him as my next delegate."  
  
Geordi groaned.  
  
Montgomery Scott looked around at some of the somber faces around him. "I take it that being selected by this fellow is not a particularly grand thing."  
  
"Because it's not."  
  
"Scotty!"  
  
Scotty looked over towards the voice that had called out to him. "Bones? Is that you?"  
  
"In the wrinkled flesh!" answered McCoy in a gruff but cheerful manner. "Come over here and I'll tell you what you got yourself involved in!"  
  
Next to McCoy, Admiral Owen Paris rose from his seat. He was one of the few in this century who knew of Montgomery Scott's stasis in a transporter that had held him frozen in time for decades. Commander Scott and Admiral McCoy had been two of his childhood heroes. The same heroes that he had tried to impress upon his son when Tom was a child. He wasn't about to let Scott be subjected to die at the whim of a Q. He looked over at Janeway, the captain of Voyager that seemed to have the most influence with the Q, however she seemed willing to let Q2's decision stand. Admiral Paris did not agree with that. "I don't-"  
  
"And I'll take that admiral over there, too," interrupted Q2 as he pointed to the senior Paris.  
  
A number of people jumped up in protest. Captain Janeway raised both her hands as she attempted to regain the attention and cooperation of the room. Tension was high as the danger of the Borg threat was obvious to everybody who had watched the visual portals Q had created to show the exploits of those picked. As everyone quieted down, Janeway noticed her helmsman, Tom Paris, talking quietly to Q. She was pretty sure what Tom was up to so she wasn't that surprised when Q made his next announcement.  
  
"I'll select young Tom, here."  
  
"Oh, please Q!" protested Q2. "Now you are giving into human sentiments? I think you have had way too much contact with these creatures. They seem to have a bad influence on you."  
  
Q scowled at the insult. "I'll have you know that Tom here is physically fit, has knowledge of Earth's primitive cultures, and has fought against the Borg on more than one occasion. All of this makes him a good candidate for what we are asking him to go through. What are your candidates assets?"  
  
Before Q2 could respond, the hologram representing the next world that they were to rescue flickered and returned to the red energy ball filled with hundreds of smaller white balls.  
  
"What's going on, Q?" asked Captain Janeway.  
  
Q looked smug. "It seems we have won before we even arrived."  
  
"So I'm not going to Japan?" asked a relived Tom Paris.  
  
"It appears not," answered Q2. Tom began to feel relived until he saw the grin on the powerful entity's face.  
  
"But what happened?" demanded the elder Paris.  
  
Q2 took brief moment to use his powers to gain the necessary knowledge to answer that question. "It appears that that particular parallel world had a small number of gigantic creatures of various types which were sometimes menaces and sometimes defenders of humanity."  
  
The portals that Q had created to view those that had been selected earlier now showed the scenes of the giant monsters walking through various Japanese cities, some randomly destroying things, some fighting those that were causing the damage. Over all it looked like a very dangerous situation.  
  
"The Borg arrived here during one of the battles seen here. The drones managed to infect one of the defenders, a giant turtle-like creature called Gamera. It took the combined efforts of Godzilla, Mothra, and a three headed dragon-like creature called Ghidrah to destroy the Gamera drone and the rest of the Borg populace." The various view portals focused on each of the massive monsters and then on the fight against their resent Borgified member, who was only in the first stage of Borg development due to the creature's massive size.  
  
Silence swept the room as everyone watched the last part of the battle scene in amazement. Wreckage from the damaged buildings had been thrown everywhere. Mothra, with her moth-like wings shredded, lay dead next to the fallen, broken remains of Gamera. Ghidrah flew away with one of it's heads hanging at an angle due to a broken neck. Godzilla finished destroying the rest of the human drones with his atomic breath and roared his victory cry. The Klingons watching all jumped to their feet and let loose their own roars in pleasure at seeing such a fierce and phenomenal battle. They continued their yelling and drinking of blood-wine as they watched Godzilla limp his way to the ocean.  
  
Worf finished his glass of prune juice and put it down with much gusto. After watching a battle like that the blood in his veins felt like fire.  
  
"You liked that, didn't you?" asked Deanna with a smile. Being an empath, she already knew the answer.  
  
Worf swooped her up in his arms and gave her a hard, passionate kiss. After breaking away he held her close. "I just wish Alexander had been here to see it," he said as he watched the giant creature in the portal slowly swim away.  
  
"Mmmm," she murmured as she snuggled a little closer to him. It was her experience that Worf was usually much more reserved in public, but she didn't mind seeing this side of him at all. "Shut up and kiss me again." It had been a while since they had been a couple briefly on the Enterprise, but Deanna didn't mind picking up from where they had left off. At least she could trust Worf not to run after other women all the time, unlike Will.  
  
Meanwhile, another person of Klingon lineage in the bar was feeling somewhat frustrated at the exhilaration she was experiencing from watching the giants battle against each other. As much as B'Elanna tried to deny her Klingon heritage it was always there, taunting her in subtle ways. She took a deep breath to help still her emotions.  
  
A hand touched her shoulder and she turned with a growl.  
  
"Whoa!" Tom said with a slight chuckle. "What did I do to deserve that?"  
  
She shook her head in embarrassment. "Sorry. It just that. Sorry." Then she saw the look in his eye. The look he always got when he was about to try to get her to try embrace her Klingon cultural heritage. "Don't."  
  
"Don't what?"  
  
"Just don't." She caught her father-in-law-to-be looking at them from where he sat at the admiral's table. "Oh great. Your father's watching."  
  
"So."  
  
"So I don't want to go through the whole thing where you try to talk me into howling along with the other Klingons while your father is watching."  
  
Tom put on his best kicked puppy dog face. "I just want you to be happy with who you are."  
  
"I am happy. As happy as I'll ever be. And I am happier with you." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Just don't push the boat. "  
  
He sighed. "I think you mean don't rock the boat."  
  
She smiled coyly. "Sorry. I'm just not as familiar with twentieth century sayings as you are." She pulled him into a hug that he more than willingly returned. "That was a very brave thing that you did there to be by your father's side. I'm just glad that you don't have to go on one of those Borg hunting parties like I did."  
  
Tom stiffened. "I'm not too sure that dad and I are in the clear yet."  
  
She pushed away and held him at arms length. "What do you mean? That other Q said that the Borg on the next Earth are already wiped out. Your mission is over before it even started!"  
  
Tom saw that the two Q's arguing over something. "I have a feeling that Q2 doesn't agree with that."  
  
The couple held onto each other as the two Q entities argued with each other.  
  
"--so it can't count because your team never even arrived in that universe," answered Q2.  
  
Q fumed. He had been sure he had just had an easy victory. Now that arrogant Q had taken it away due to a technicality. "Fine. I'll chose another one," he mumbled.  
  
Q scowled at all the puny mortals as he went back over to the red energy sphere to choose another world randomly. He noticed Jean-Luc and Beverly stepping back into Quark's bar. Q was surprised that he felt embarrassment and humiliation at being forced to bend to Q2's every whim in front of these mortals. Q knew that he would never do anything like this Jean-Luc. Well, maybe he had done a few things but it didn't matter. Picard was only mortal and Q was, well, Q. Besides Q always made sure Jean-Luc had opportunities to get himself out of whatever predicament Q had put him in. Q couldn't be as sure that he would have that opportunity with his fellow Q.  
  
Without hesitation, Q thrust his arm into the energy sphere and withdrew another smaller white sphere. "Let's get this over with."  
  
"Are you forgetting?" asked Q2. "We still have to choose two more candidates."  
  
Q scowled at his fellow Q but didn't say anything. He looked down at the small white ball in his hand and wondered what problems this new world would bring.  
  
A skirmish at the bar drew everybody's attention. A man called out in warning." No! Stop! You don't know what you are doing!"  
  
To everyone's surprise, two Klingon women were pushing Dr. Banner back forth between them as they laughed. "Change into your other form, little man!"  
  
"Yes, change into your fleshly counterpart!" called out the other Klingon woman, who had managed to rip off one of the man's sleeves.  
  
"No! Don't! You're making me ang-"  
  
A phaser beam hit Banner in the chest and he dropped to the floor. Odo stepped forward with two of his Bajoran security team members and took the two Klingon women away with much shouting and cursing.  
  
Beverly lowered her phaser and pulled out her tricorder to check on Dr. Banner. She noticed the slight shake in her hands and took a deep breath. Carefully, she pulled back his right eyelid and watched as the light green iris slowly returned back to it dark brown color.  
  
Captain Picard grasped her elbow. "Was that really necessary?"  
  
"I couldn't take the chance. Not with so many people in a close space."  
  
Dr. Bashir walked in through the door of the bar with Garak, the local Cardassian tailor. "What happened? Did we miss something?"  
  
Beverly looked up. "Don't worry, Julian. This one is my patient."  
  
Dr. Bashir just nodded once he saw that she didn't need any help. "All right, I guess I'll let you have all the fun."  
  
Garak just looked at him with an enigmatic smile on his face. "You say that like you would like to be doing the things she has been doing."  
  
Julian stepped over towards the bar but made sure he was facing Beverly and the stunned man in case she needed him for anything. "But think of all the things that she encountered. A new alien species. A lost colony of man that had lived on other planets. She brought back tons of information on new technologies, the histories of that alternate universe and even a representative from that universe! Oh, if I only had the chance to do half of what she accomplished."  
  
Garak looked up with concern at the two Q's staring their way. "Be careful of what you wish for."  
  
*****  
  
ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER  
  
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON, USA May 7, 2002 A.J. Simon smoothed out his dress jacket as he walked down the steps of the convention hall. He was surprised to see his brother waiting for him. "Well, Rick. What brings you here?"  
  
"Rick Simon looked down at his shorter brother. "What are you talking about, A.J.? You're the one that suggested that we meet right here."  
  
"Yes, but you are on time as well; that means that something is up."  
  
Rick grinned but didn't deny the accusation. "I'm meeting a couple of the guys I played poker with last night. Three of the guys were a little short on cash and they're meeting me here to pay up."  
  
"You played poker with people who didn't have cash?" A.J. looked his brother up and down in mock shock. "Who are you and where is my brother!"  
  
"Very funny, A.J., but for you information, they didn't run out of money until the very last hand. I had a handful of the most beautiful cards so I just couldn't help but to extend a line of credit to my fellow players."  
  
A.J. shook his head in amusement. "I'm sure that they were very appreciative of your generosity, but I wouldn't be surprised if they stiffed you."  
  
"Doubt it. We still have two more nights at this convention. They stiff me and no one else will let them sit in on a night of poker while they are here." Rick reached into his pant pocket and pulled something out. "Besides I have their badges as collateral."  
  
"Okay, maybe you will get your money. But tonight, play in a hotel room that isn't so close to mine. You guys had me tossing and turning half the night with the racket you were making."  
  
"Sorry. But you could have joined us." The non-interest was plain on his brother's face so Rick decided to change the subject. "So, what do you think of the convention so far?"  
  
The 'convention' was a first ever nation-wide law enforcement meeting to rally against crime, promote stability and safety, as well as to somehow improve relations among the ranks of those on the side of truth, justice and the American way. It was also a part of a campaign promise made by the new president. Governors from each state were asked to pick or have others pick from their home state some of the best from all walks of law enforcement to come to this convention. Even private investigators were sought to come. While many people didn't agree with the need for such a massive convention at the taxpayers' expense, they did have to admit that the president was at least attempting to keep his campaign promises.  
  
The Rosemont Convention Center was new to the Seattle area. It had a nice view of Puget Sound but was still relatively close to the industrial and shipping area. There were a total of two large convention halls which could each seat over fourteen hundred people, and six smaller convention halls that could hold seven hundred people at maximum capacity. For the week of the law enforcement convention, all the halls were to be used for different seminars with speakers covering everything from on-scene forensic clues to reaching out to troubled teens. Everyone was required to sign up for something. There was even a checklist to make sure that you attended. So far the only real problems with the seminar were a number of protestors outside because their sci-fi convention had been postponed due to the law enforcement convention.  
  
A.J. almost jumped as a hand suddenly gripped his shoulder. Hard. "Hey guys. How has the mainland been treating you?"  
  
"Thomas Magnum! I told Rick we might find you here."  
  
"Well, you were right. I flew over with some of my Hawaii 5-O buddies. Hey, Rick, is there any chance of a round of poker later?"  
  
A.J. frowned but his brother/partner ignored him. "Yeah, I was going to get a few fellows together for a game." He told him his room number. A.J. coughed and Rick quickly mentioned that they would only be meeting there. They would be playing poker in one of the other fellows' room.  
  
"Sounds good. I can only play till midnight though. I got a date with a lady bounty hunter and she says she knows a good bar in the area that plays some good jazz music."  
  
"Sounds nice," admitted Rick. "If it really is nice, get the name and address of the bar and I'll check it out tomorrow night."  
  
"Will do," agreed Magnum.  
  
"So," A.J. scanned the crowd. "Where is this hulking woman of a bounty hunter?"  
  
Magnum grinned. "She's not that big." At A.J.'s raised eyebrows, he chuckled and pointed. "But judge for yourselves. See the tall blond over there."  
  
Rick and A.J. stared in quiet admiration. "She's a bounty hunter?" asked Rick when he found his voice again.  
  
"Yeah. Her name is Jody Banks. She does part-time work of collecting guys that skip for a bail bonds company. The rest of the time she does work as a stuntwoman."  
  
"Hey, where do I know that guy from that's hitting on her?"  
  
"What?" Magnum hadn't even noticed the older man with the light speckling of gray hairs that was talking to his date until Rick mentioned it. And he definitely seemed to be making a pass at her. Several in fact.  
  
"I wouldn't worry," commented A.J., "she really doesn't look interested. As for the guy, you remember him. We saw him on that television show, COPS. He was one of the officers that were spotlighted. The one that you kept making you fun of because his name was--"  
  
"Hooker! That's right. The announcer said he was Officer T.J. Hooker. And he was trying to separate some prostitutes who were beating up their pimp. The cameraman caught the whole thing!" Rick laughed as he remembered that the ladies of the evening had turned on the police officer as soon as he got out of his vehicle.  
  
"It wasn't that funny," A.J. said. "Tom, you should probably go down and rescue her."  
  
"Look's like I won't have to help her. See the guy there heading towards her? That's her partner, Colt Seavers. He's also a stuntman."  
  
"Still, if you want to make with the brownie points, you better hurry over."  
  
"Hmm, brownie points? Well, I do have a sweet tooth. I'll see you later tonight, Rick." The detective from Hawaii quickly hurried through the crowd to 'rescue' his date.  
  
"Boy, the old guys are really out tonight. There's another one talking to pretty blond over there," A.J. pointed out. "Hey, I think I know him from somewhere."  
  
"No you don't," answered Rick. "Why don't we get some fresh air?"  
  
"I thought you were waiting for some guys to buy back their badges."  
  
"We can do it-"  
  
"Hey, isn't that guy the judge who you went up before for petty larceny when you were eighteen?"  
  
"I was seventeen. And I only stole a few cartons of cigarettes. There should have been no reason for me to have to go before a judge like Judge 'Hardcase' Hardcastle."  
  
"Sounds like you have some unresolved issues."  
  
"You know what he put me through. He had me signed up for work details to cleanup parks and the sides of highways for the rest of the summer! You only have one summer when you are seventeen. After that everybody wants you to start acting responsible."  
  
"Hey, nobody made you take the cigarettes but yourself," A.J. pointed out. "And besides, Judge Hardcastle had mom's full support in the matter."  
  
Rick just shrugged that off. "What is he doing here anyway? I heard he retired."  
  
"I think he's one of the speakers."  
  
Rick groaned as if he was in agony. "Well, I'm not attending that seminar."  
  
"Hey Rick. You been waiting long?"  
  
"Hey, Ponch," Rick held out his hand to shake with the California highway patrolman. He also noticed the two other men just behind him. "Looking for a badge to buy back?"  
  
Officer Francis 'Ponch' Poncherello grimaced but pulled out his wallet and extracted thirty dollars. "Here," said as he exchanged the money for his badge. "I hope you are going to give me a chance to win this back tonight?"  
  
"Sure. But we are going to have to use somebody else's room to play cards."  
  
"We can use mine," commented New York Detective Andy Sipowicz as he handed over his thirty dollars. "But you bring the chips and salsa this time."  
  
"Here." Sgt. Lorenzo handed over the money with some reservations. "I should have know better. Private Detectives have too much good luck."  
  
"So are you going to see if I have any more luck left tonight?" asked Rick.  
  
Chris nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, but I better do better this time."  
  
"That's more up to you than it is up to me," Rick pointed out with a chuckle. "I'll see you later."  
  
A.J. watched the three men walk away talking amongst themselves. "Ninety dollars in that last hand, huh? You must have won a lot of money last night."  
  
"Yeah, I cleaned up pretty good," he boasted.  
  
"Good. Then you can pay me back the three hundred and fifty dollars you borrowed from me three weeks ago."  
  
"Ah, now A.J., let's be reasonable about this. We still have a couple of days at this convention-"  
  
"And you could lose all that money before you get a chance to pay me back, so cough it up."  
  
Both brothers stopped in their arguing as they watched a very attractive redhead walk down the stairs. Both whistled quietly after she had passed. It was another minute before they resumed their argument.  
  
---  
  
"Mulder, just think of this as a vacation."  
  
Mulder spit the shell of a sunflower seed into the cup he was holding. "You know as well as I do that we were sent here just to be out of everybody's hair for a while." Mulder sidestepped around a bald man sucking on a sucker that wasn't paying attention to his surrounding and quickly returned to his place at Scully's side. "This is all just a waste of our time!"  
  
"Oh, I don't know about that. You see that man over there. The older one. That's Dr. Quincy, who wrote my first and second year's textbooks in forensics. And the tall, skinny man with white hair that he's talking to is Dr. Mark Sloan. He was special speaker many times when I was a student. He really knows his medicine."  
  
Mulder spit another seed into his cup, while scanning the growing number of people walking by. It was getting close to the time when the various seminars were to start. Scully had chosen a special forensics session in one of the larger convention halls while he was planning on seeing what they had prepared for Criminal Psychology. He only hoped he wouldn't laugh out loud, though from what he had heard on one of the speakers, a Frank Black, drew Mulder's attention. It had only been a few years ago when they had met and Black had ended up saving Mulder's life. He was definitely going to have to get a moment to talk to him. "What was that, Scully?"  
  
Dana frowned. "I was telling you about this C.S.I. group that was brought to be the main focus of the seminar I'm attending tonight. Gil Grissom, the man in charge of the group, and I had lunch today. I also asked if you had brought any x-files material along with you that I could borrow. I'd like to compare notes with him."  
  
Mulder put on a sloppy grin. "So you're planning to double-team me now, Scully? One of you trying to prove me wrong all the time isn't enough?"  
  
Scully sighed. She cared for Mulder, but sometimes he could be so stubborn and childish. "No, I would just like to run a couple of the unusual things I work with every day by another specialist."  
  
"Is he married?" Mulder asked in a monotone voice.  
  
"I didn't ask. Besides.I'm not interested in a long-distance romance."  
  
"I don't think Skinner would like an outsider looking through an x-file."  
  
"I don't think Skinner would like to find out you take x-file material with you wherever you go like they were library books," she retorted.  
  
Mulder spit out another sunflower seed. Arguing with Scully can be a fun sport as long as she doesn't get angry. "Yeah, I brought along a few to look at since I was stuck here. One is a series of bizarre happenings and a few murders at a small town called Wolf Lake. One of the new officers there contacted me discreetly and asked me to come look into it."  
  
"What evidence do you have?"  
  
"Nothing on that on yet. I have another x-file that is so thick I only brought the information relating to this state."  
  
"Please tell me it's not another U.F.O. sighting."  
  
Mulder looked offended. "I'm keeping the U.F.O. x-file to myself. As for the one I was telling you about: there have been a large number of bodies found with their heads chopped off."  
  
"Gangland murder?"  
  
"Almost all beheadings were done by swords, a few by ax or other edged weapon."  
  
"A cult?"  
  
"A possibility since the specifics of this x-file seem to have been occurring all around the world for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. The most unusual thing is that at practically every site, there have been signs of a massive electrical discharge. A few bystanders that were close by reported seeing lightning repeatedly hitting the area where the body was later found. And the neck area on the body also showed electrical burns."  
  
"When was the last body found?"  
  
"Four days ago. About two miles west of here."  
  
"I thought you didn't put up much of a fight coming out here." Dana knew that the rest of her week was shot now that Mulder revealed his ulterior motive for being here. "When were you going to tell me?"  
  
"Tonight. Right about now."  
  
She would have kicked him if he hadn't had that stupid smile on that she liked so much. "I need a drink."  
  
"Your wish is my command, milady," responded a familiar voice just behind her.  
  
"Frohike? What are you doing here?" Frohike, a short, roundish man with thin black hair and glasses, was one of three conspiracy theorists that put together the newsletter that listed a number of questionable and sometime outrageous claims regarding government conspiracies and alien manipulation. Currently Frohike was dressed as one of the hotel's wait staff and held a tray with three champagne glasses on it. Dana and Fox each took a glass as they waited for Frohike to answer.  
  
Meanwhile, Frohike was quickly scanning the people walking by in a typical paranoid manner. He took the last champagne glass for himself and put the tray under his arm. "The Gunmen and I were concerned with the government's bringing together so many people from various parts of the law enforcement community. When we saw both of your names on the list, we became doubly concerned."  
  
Neither of the FBI agents had to ask the hacker how the Gunmen had gotten the list. Obtaining information that the Gunmen weren't supposed to have was what they lived for.  
  
"Where are the others?" Mulder asked. If there was one thing Mulder could be sure of, it was that the Gunmen would never be far from each other.  
  
"Langly is checking on some of the convention staff. A number of them have been hard to find in the last hour. He's also checking some of the underground tunnels used to route supplies to the kitchen and other areas. As for Byers." Frohike nodded slightly to his left with his eyes, both agents turned and saw Byers, a tall skinny man with a neatly trimmed goatee and wearing another waiter's uniform, serving champagne to a tall, handsome man in a nice suit and a slightly older woman, also nicely dressed.  
  
"Isn't that Remington Steele?" asked Scully. She saw the questioning looks in both Mulder's and Frohike's eyes. "I only know of him because he was listed as one of the ten most eligible New York bachelors of '85. He looks as good now as he did then." Scully noticed right away that her explanation had only seemed to cause more apprehension for Mulder and Frohike. "But I do believe that is his wife, Laura Holt, with him."  
  
"Steele.I remember that name. He was the only one that we couldn't find any history on before 1982," commented Frohike. He made a motion with his hand, a prearranged signal he had set up with Byers, to keep an eye on the man he was serving.  
  
Mulder's curiosity raised its head. "He's a private investigator, right? And a well known one, at that. And if he has no past, then he must be hiding something or running from someone." He paused for a moment when he noticed Scully giving him a look of frustration. "But why would someone who is hiding take a position that puts him in the public eye?"  
  
"Mulder, just drop it, will you?" Scully asked harshly. "We can muck around with a x-file or two while we are here but we are not going to chase every curiosity that catches your eye."  
  
To her surprise, Mulder actually looked hurt. "You normally wait to at least hear me out before shooting down my ideas."  
  
Scully, unable to stand Mulder's pouting look, apologized. "I'm sorry, it's just. I--" Dana turned away in embarrassment.  
  
"Scully?"  
  
"I had a high school crush on him."  
  
"You knew Remington Steele in high school?"  
  
"Not exactly." She had both Mulder's and Frohike's attention. Both would dig like crazy for the information unless she just told them. "I came upon his picture in a New York newspaper telling of a murder case he had just solved. I was immediately fascinated with him and began a scrapbook on everything I could find on him."  
  
"Really?" Frohike asked in surprise. "I-I did the same thing with Farrah Fawcett-Majors, Nastassja Kinski and Brooke Shields."  
  
"So you both have the potential to be stalkers. It must be nice to have something in common, " commented Mulder with sarcasm. "So, whatever happened to this scrapbook?"  
  
Dana scowled briefly at Mulder. "I lost it sometime after I moved to college. You know how you lose things while moving. And I never started it up again."  
  
"Did you find anything about him from before 1982?"  
  
"No. It just made him more mysterious to me." She looked away when she realized she couldn't maintain eye contact with Mulder. She turned to get another look at Mr. and Mrs. Steele only to bump into another man and spill some of her champagne. "Oh! I am so sorry!"  
  
"Quite all right, miss. Unexpected hazards is one of the reasons that I were a raincoat wherever I go."  
  
"That and he has no sense of fashion," replied the woman on his left with a humorous tone.  
  
"Hi, my name is Detective Columbo and this lovely woman is my wife Kate."  
  
"As you can see, he does have some other redeeming qualities about him though," she responded.  
  
"Hello. Agent Dana Scully. FBI." Despite herself she found herself instantly liking the couple. They were both older than she, but where he seemed untidy, Kate seemed just the opposite. Unfortunately, she had also noticed that Mulder and Frohike had taken a step away from her and she was almost certain that they were conspiring to find more on Remington Steele and spewing theories about his non-existent past. Still, Mr. Steele seemed like an honorable man who could take care of himself, so Dana allowed herself to be caught up in conversation with the Columbos.  
  
---  
  
Amanda looked at everything around her in wonder. "This is so exciting. All of us on the side of law and order coming together in fellowship." She stopped to allow a large man in a wheelchair to pass in front of her. "Say, Lee, do you think they will have one of those murder mystery/whodunnit things here? You know, so they can challenge some of the officers and detectives to see which one can solve it first."  
  
"I doubt it," Lee answered Amanda. "This place has too many people for it to work effectively." Lee double checked to make sure that they were not being followed but it was practically impossible to tell with the number of people walking by as they tried to find their way to whatever seminar they had signed up for. "I can't believe that someone set up a meeting in a place like this!"  
  
"What do you mean? What's wrong with meeting in a place like this? You said it is usually very much to our advantage when meeting unknowns to do so in a public area."  
  
Lee Stetson nodded. "Normally yes. But not in a place packed with law enforcement from every state in the union. You couldn't ask for a more paranoid group to notice anything suspicious."  
  
"Oh. I'm sorry, Lee. I didn't think about that."  
  
"It's not like you set up this spot for the meeting--" The look of guilt on Amanda's face said it all. Amanda had been an agent of the Agency for seventeen years now. She had faces killers, terrorists and mad politicians with few problems. Few of them ever expected such a sweet nice homemaker of being a secret agent for her country. However one of her major weaknesses was that if she felt guilty about anything, it was immediately apparent on her face. "How and why here?"  
  
"You weren't at the office when the other branch called and our side was allowed to choose the site of the initial meeting so I chose here because I knew it would be filled with people, and I knew security would be tight especially since the president spoke here yesterday."  
  
"And why at the front of this particular convention hall?"  
  
She blushed gently. "Jessica Fletcher, the speaker, is my favorite author. I had heard that she was going to be speaking at this convention, that's how I knew about this convention by the way, so I thought why not mix a little business with pleasure."  
  
Lee sighed. Amanda's ways almost always baffled him, yet they almost always worked out, too, so he couldn't really argue with her rather unorthodox methods if they yielded good results. "Amanda, what am I going to do with you?"  
  
"You could always marry me and take me on a Hawaiian honeymoon."  
  
"I already married you fifteen years ago."  
  
"Anniversary present then."  
  
"Hawaii?"  
  
"What's wrong with Hawaii?"  
  
"Nothing, I guess. We'll have to get clearance to take the time off."  
  
"Already done. Soon as we finish this mission and wrap up the paperwork, we can go."  
  
Lee smiled in approval. Lee and Amanda were now in their fifties, but had somehow managed to stay young at heart and act like newlyweds despite the high stress of their jobs.  
  
"So what can you tell me about this meeting and this Bob Hobbes we are supposed to meet?"  
  
"I've met him a couple of times. He works mainly for a shadowy branch of the Agency, which is very different. They also hide their more covert actions by claiming to be a part of the Department of Fish & Wildlife. They act more like unscrupulous thugs than federal agents, but they are effective so they have been tolerated so far. Anyway, one of their agents managed to learn of a secret anti-terrorist group called Section One."  
  
"Anti-terrorist? Ah, are we sure we should be against them?"  
  
"From what I hear, they kill anyone they consider a threat. Including innocents."  
  
"That's horrible."  
  
"But it's true," came a voice behind them.  
  
Lee turned quickly. He had purposely kept his back to the wall so that no one could sneak up on them, yet somehow Hobbes and his partner had done so and had gotten close enough to hear his conversation with Amanda without Lee noticing. The most annoying part was the grin on his rival's face. "You've gotten better. Who's your friend?"  
  
"Darien, meet Lee Stetson, also known in some circles as 'Scarecrow'. And this, I believe is Amanda, his wife. We have mixed reports of her, but all agree that she is effective."  
  
"Um, thank you. Hi," responded Amanda as held out a hand to Darien. Lee tensed slightly, but Darien just gently took her hand and kissed it. Hobbes just grinned at Lee's unease.  
  
"So what else can you fill us in on concerning this Section One?" Amanda asked hoping to defuse the building testosterone in the area.  
  
"Not much," admitted Hobbes. "They are good on secrecy. One thing we know for sure is that all their field agents that they send out are already dead."  
  
"I hope you don't mean that in the horror movie term," said Amanda, while a shiver went up her spine.  
  
"No. He means officially dead," explained Darien. "As in as far as paperwork is concerned."  
  
Hobbes nodded. "From what we have been able to tell, all their field agents are convicted criminals that were supposed to have been executed by the state or died in prison by some other means."  
  
"That's quite a recruiting method. Must take a lot to coordinate," Lee contemplated.  
  
"So the criminals get no say at all in the matter?" Amanda asked.  
  
"Sure they do," answered Hobbes. "Do it or die. Or at least do it till you die. And from what I've learned of Section One, their operatives have a very high death ratio. They also have no qualms about killing their own, either."  
  
"So just how big is this outfit anyway," Lee asked.  
  
Darien looked a little uneasy. "It's international."  
  
"We learned most of this from a British secret agent by the name of James Bond." Hobbes noticed that Stetson knew the name and continued. "Turns out there was a recent skirmish between a secret organization called SPECTRE and Section One in the Philippines. Bond, who was there trying to infiltrate SPECTRE at the time, was able to rescue one of Section One's female operatives, who in turn filled in the British agent about Section One. Bond and other agents are currently seeking to gauge the extent of Section One's power and influence in England. We should hear more from him soon."  
  
Darien nudged Hobbes and made a typing gesture in the air.  
  
"Oh, and they are very into hacking into government databases so make sure not to electronically mention anything about Section One yet. We don't want them to be aware that we have knowledge of their existence. We can't stress that enough. It would be hazardous to our health."  
  
"Alright, so do you have any game plans?" asked Lee. "Or are we just going to make this up as we go?"  
  
---  
  
"Yep, when those two escaped convicts came at me, I let them have it." The storyteller made two karate chops and an awkward kick. Then as he straightened himself up, he had a smug grin on his face. "I was so fast, they never knew what hit them. And that's how I became known as Ferocious Fife."  
  
"That, ah, that sounds pretty incredible," admitted Jarod. Jarod had been the other man's deputy for two months now. Not that he was working on anything. It was just a chance to take a peaceful vacation. And where better than a peaceful, crime-free town like Mayberry. Jarod felt so relaxed that he had determined that if he ever decided to go into permanent hiding from the Centre, it would be in a setting just like Mayberry.  
  
"Incredible seems to be the word for it," replied Jim Ellison, an officer from Cascade, WA.  
  
Blair, standing next to Jim, softly kicked him and got a quick glare for his efforts.  
  
"'Course, I was much more limber back in those days," explained Sheriff Barney Fife. "But I still keep in shape," he said as he stretched his skinny frame up and down a few times. "Still spry enough to make most felons think twice about messing with the likes of me."  
  
Jim bit down hard on his lip, and even used his Sentinel abilities that heightened his sense of touch to make it even more painful. Just to keep from laughing out loud. Blair and Jim had just come from having dinner when they bumped into the sheriff and his deputy, Jarod. For the past ten minutes they had been listening to stories told by Sheriff Fife. It wasn't that they minded listening to the stories, just the fact that they had to keep a straight face through it all as if they believed every word of it. And that was starting to become unbearable to Jim.  
  
To distract himself he started to listen to the various other conversation around him, catching talk about a all-night poker game, two men talking about government conspiracies connected to an alien agenda, and others discussing ways to discover information about a secret organization. He found the last two to be rather amusing but it was the poker game that held his interest.  
  
But just before Jim could excuse himself and go over and hopefully get himself invited to the poker game, a dark-haired man came running in shouting to get everybody's attention. "Listen up! This building must be evacuated! I'm with the NSA! Let's get moving, people!" Some people started moving towards the door but most moved closer to the new man. On closer inspection it could be seen that he was breathing hard, covered in sweat, and was bleeding from his forehead.  
  
Blair made it to the man first. "Let's see some identification, Mr. NSA."  
  
"Don't have any at the moment," he explained as he tried to catch his breath. "But I can prove it with one phone call."  
  
"Oh, you'll get your phone call. Downtown, that is."  
  
"We don't have time for that!" shouted the man. "All of your lives are in danger! We have to leave here immediately!"  
  
Blair was about to make a grab for the man and strong-arm him to the ground when he caught a whiff of him. His sense of smell felt like it was doing cartwheels as it tried in vain to identify the alien scent that was around the man. Something that just couldn't be of this Earth.  
  
"Can you chance being wrong?" demanded the man. The people around him had him in a corner but so far no one had rushed him.  
  
"Anybody got a cell phone?" Blair asked next to him. An attractive redheaded woman handed one over to Blair who in turn handed it to his partner Jim. "Well?"  
  
Jim looked at the phone for a second as he considered. "Fine." He gently tossed the phone over to the man who quickly grabbed it and rapidly pushed in the number. "Hello? Conundrum." He waited a moment for the person to recognise the code word. "Listen, it's Frank Parker. I'm in Seattle, Washington at the Rosemont Convention Center. Evacuate everyone up to a mile away from this place. I need to speak to Talmadge immediately."  
  
Behind Frank, Jarod stepped up close, not so much as to try hear what was being said on the phone as to see if he could get some insight on this man with the last name Parker.  
  
"You know Dr. Bradley Talmadge?" asked the redhead who had provided the phone. From her expression he could tell she was impressed.  
  
"Yeah," nodded Frank. "Yeah, we spend a lot of time together lately. Sometimes we even manage to go fishing."  
  
"What's a conundrum?" asked Sheriff Barney Fife as he stepped beside his pseudo- deputy.  
  
"Conundrum is a password, I bet," commented Blair Sandburg. Jim, beside him, nodded in agreement.  
  
"A conundrum is a puzzling problem," commented a tall thin man near the redheaded woman. He pulled out his FBI badge to show of everybody. "I'm Mulder and this is my partner Scully. Since we probably have the highest level of authority here, we'll be taking charge just for the moment."  
  
"Yeah, right," muttered Frank. "Talmadge?" Frank lowered his voice so that he wouldn't be heard. "Listen, things are going to get very crazy here. We're talking about an invasion from a parallel world kind of crazy. They are called the Borg but I'll tell you all about them later. First priority is to get the Sphere and get it out of this state. We can't risk the Borg assimilating its technology and jumping through time. Secondly, do what ever it takes to keep the president from nuking the Borg. It won't work. Thirdly, we need to set up a base of operations. Before the Backstep, you suggested a place near the Space Needle, okay?" Frank stopped to think for a minute. "Oh, and as for a more immediate concern I need you to get a hold of somebody of authority here to get these people evacuated or we'll all end up being worse than dead. Unfortunately, most of these people are cops who are used to dealing with crack-ups all the time and I seem to fit that category pretty well right now." As he turned the phone off, he noticed a curious, yet stunned look on Jim Ellison's face. "What's wrong now?"  
  
"I believe you," he said.  
  
Blair, Jim's guide and friend, looked up at him. "What did you hear?"  
  
Jim leaned down to his friend so that they could talk in hushed tones. "It's crazy talk. But it all sounded very official on the other end." He looked Blair in the eye. "And I think the guy on the other end of the phone conversation accepted everything he was told as fact."  
  
"So we should start evacuating then?" asked Sandburg.  
  
Jim stepped onto a chair and used his loud voice to get everybody's attention. "Listen up, people! We got a situation here so let's all evacuate in an orderly manner! You know the drill!"  
  
"Hey!" Mulder yelled from where he had been talking with Scully, Frohike and Byers. "I told you that I was in charge here! What do you think you are doing?"  
  
"I'm." He froze as he heard a cry of pain followed by the sound of footfalls coming their way.  
  
A side door that lead to a maze of hallways for employees only opened up. A longhaired skinny blond man rushed through and collapsed in pain after a few feet.  
  
"Langly!" Frohike and Byers quickly pushed through the people in their way to get to the fallen member of the Lone Gunmen. Dana was right behind them and gasped at what she saw. Greyish veins were quickly spreading over his face and hands. She immediately noticed a puncture wound in his left arm, which she suspected was the origin for whatever was happening to Langly.  
  
"It's already happening!" shouted Frank Parker. "We've got to get everybody out of here!" A number of people started looking for the exits, but most felt obligated to do something even if they didn't have any weapons with them.  
  
Mulder leaned in close to Scully and looked over her shoulder. "Is it the same stuff our little grey friends use?"  
  
"No," she responded. "Unless it's a variation."  
  
Langly looked up at Byers and gasped in pain. "Hurts so bad. They're coming. Set up underground . Get! Out! Away from here! I.I." As everyone watched, Langly's eyes slowly seemed to glaze over with a greyish tint and his face took on the look of a zombie.  
  
"Is he.dead?" Byers asked Dana. On the other side of Langly, Frohike had tears streaming down his face as the female FBI agent check Langly's vital signs.  
  
"He's alive. I think he might be in shock."  
  
"It could be a coma," commented one of the voices behind her.  
  
Dana was only partially surprised to see Dr. Quincy and Dr. Sloan whispering between themselves. As much as she didn't like the guessing being done behind her back, she was still grateful that they respected her ability enough not to interfere with her work. "I think the state he is in is beyond what we are used to. We have to get him out of here and hopefully we'll find some answers."  
  
Meanwhile, much to Mulder's frustration, Jim Ellison was rounding up a few men to confront whatever had attacked the fallen blond man. His plan was to simply jump whoever came through the side door next. He had a man who had introduced himself as Thomas Magnum on the other side of the door next to another guy called Colt Seavers. Next to himself, he had a Texas Ranger by the name of Cordell Walker, in whom he felt more confidence.  
  
Jim listened carefully to the sounds of the approaching footsteps and signaled everybody to be ready. As the door opened, Jim reached out and grabbed what seemed like some type of rifle. Pulling with all his might, he was surprised when the person holding the weapon did not let go but was pulled through the doorway as well. Jim was even more surprised when he was that the weapon he was pulling on was actually attached. It was while he was caught off guard that the Borg drone was able to stab him and inject nano-probes into his bloodstream.  
  
***  
  
ALTERNATE UNIVERSE BABYLON 5 SPACE STATION ORBITING EPSILON 3 "So those are the basic ground rules. And since I appeared in a large group of you, it only applies to four volunteers."  
  
Q looked out into large number of studying him, trying to guess what he was and what he stood for. As soon as he had appeared, a security force had been called and had their weapons levelled on him. Q found it all rather annoying since he was currently trying to be very diplomatic with these mortals. He had even made the effort of appearing in a white glowing robe that flowed as if an invisible breeze was gently blowing from somewhere. Fear and apprehension was everywhere but Q felt that he didn't have time to deal with their petty uncertainties.  
  
"Look, let's make this simple and try work it out from there. So . what do you want?" To Q's surprise, some of the guards and a few of the officials all became even more ill at ease. "Was it something I said?"  
  
Captains Elizabeth Lochley and Matthew Gideon regarded each other. This was not how they had planned Excalibur's three-day furlough to begin. Not with a self-proclaimed omnipotent being offering almost anything in exchange for straightening a mishap in another universe.  
  
Before either of the captains could say anything, Dr. Sarah Chambers stepped forward. "Can you cure or provide an antidote?"  
  
"As easily as you snap your fingers," replied the glowing Q.  
  
Dr. Chambers looked to her left at the two captains. Gideon nodded for her to proceed so she did. "There is a plague on Earth that will kill everyone on it in the next four years. We have also discovered a few other worlds that have been infected with it as well. It's called the Drakh Plague and-"  
  
A flash of light surprised her. Q remained floating where he was, but now there was something floating in front of him that she recognised instantly even though she had never seen its image so large or clearly before. Q appeared to be studying an enlarged image of the Drakh virus.  
  
"Very impressive considering it was designed by mortals."  
  
A number of the aliens and Humans in the room began backing away once they realised what it was that Q was studying.  
  
"Can-can you stop it? Can you save the lives of all those infected?" asked the doctor. Images of her infected sister on Earth flashed across her mind. A cure would reunite them again as well as many other family members that had been separated due to the quarantine around Earth.  
  
"It's simple for someone of my intelligence," bragged Q. "But then I'm basically omniscient."  
  
"I don't care what you are as long as you are able to provide a cure for the plague."  
  
"Sarah," Galen's smooth voice cut through the excited and nervous energy in the room. "Please step back and let Matthew deal with the creature."  
  
"Creature?" Q repeated. He floated slowly towards the technomage causing Dr. Chambers to quickly back-pedal out of his way.  
  
Galen's eyes held Q's without wavering. "Who are you?"  
  
"Oh, don't start that Vorlon and Shadow question thing with me! I am so far beyond what they are even more than they are beyond you." He turned to face the two captains. "I've given you the opportunity to have the cure you have been seeking. Do you still want it?"  
  
Gideon caught Lochley's eye. It was true that she was in charge of Babylon 5, but it was also a fact that he had been put in charge of finding a cure. At Elizabeth's nod, Gideon spoke. "Give us a moment to consult with each other about who should go."  
  
Q sighed in annoyance, but agreed.  
  
"I volunteer," called out a voice.  
  
"Bester!" shouted Captain Lochley.  
  
"I think perhaps that it was a good thing I was visiting the station, don't you?" he answered with an arrogant smile. "It will save you from having to answer all those annoying question now that you are taking a former member of the Psi Corps along on this little venture. Especially one who still has strong ties with what remains of Earth Gov."  
  
"Hmmm," considered Q. "A Human telepath. And adequately powerful."  
  
"Adequately?" responded Alfred Bester. "I'll have you know I'm considered quite formidable. I rate a P12."  
  
"For a Human in this universe I agree," agreed Q, "but I've seen much better in other universes where you would pale in comparison."  
  
Bester sputtered in anger but said nothing. He had already tried looking into the mind of the being in front of him and sensed a force so powerful that he knew that if he touched it, the Psi cop would be utterly destroyed. It would be like a butterfly going into a massive tornado.  
  
As Gideon and Lochley tried to quickly work on who would be best to go before the Centauri or some other race got to the bright idea to volunteer, Bester began working on how to list his own wish for this genie-like being.  
  
"I also would like to be of service," came a humble voice.  
  
Gideon and Lochley looked at the hooded figure in a brown robe that had spoken up. At the figure's side was the Centauri Ambassador Vir Cotto, who was adamantly talking to the figure in a concerned tone.  
  
"No," stated the hooded figure to the ambassador. "I thank you for your kindness, my friend. But I have been off the path for a long time. Now is an opportunity to once again find my way to where I should be." Pulling his hood back, a number of people began whispering amongst themselves at the sight of the almost forgotten Minbari, Lennier.  
  
While everyone was gawking like little old ladies who liked to gossip, Lochley took hold of Zack Allen's elbow. "I need everybody who does not need to be here out of here."  
  
"Got it," responded Allen. He quickly communicated with the rest of his team on their wrist-communicators and started to gently herd people out. Lennier and Vir Cotto remained thanks to Zack pulling them aside. Dureena Nafeel shook off Zack's hand, but he had other things to worry about as he say a number of ambassadors that had not been present when Q arrived rushing down the hall to try make an appearance. As quickly as he could he closed the door and had it sealed.  
  
Lochley let out a sigh of relief as she finally realised that nobody had put up a fuss about leaving. That is until she heard Gideon behind her say 'oh no'. "I don't want to look, do I?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
She looked anyway. Standing in front of the entity called Q was the Excalibur's chief translator, Max Eilerson. "Tell me he isn't doing what I think he is doing?"  
  
Instead of answering her, Gideon went straight to the source. "Max, what do you think you are doing?"  
  
"I'm just trying to get some answers as to why some cosmic-powered entity manages to arrive asking for help and yet also conveniently has the solution to all our problems."  
  
"Because I am not allowed to go there and do anything about it myself," answered Q with a touch of thunder in his voice.  
  
Max calmly folded his arms and looked back at Gideon. "I bet there's a lot more to it than that."  
  
"Oh course, there is," rumbled Q, who was getting frustrated that his powerful persona wasn't getting the full effect he had been trying for. True, the annoying telepath no longer seemed that confidant, but the only one truly cowering was the Centauri ambassador. "But I am not about to discuss such paltry matters with mere mortals."  
  
"That is where you appear to be wrong," stated Galen calmly as he stepped in front of Eilerson, who was more than grateful for the shade the technomage provided from Q's bright glare. The technomage didn't seem bothered by the bright glare around Q's body in the least and to Q's surprise Galen was looking him straight in the eye. "You stated in your arrival that you needed our willing participation. And I think you would find us mere mortals more willing if we understood your stake in this venture as well as some other little details you were rather vague upon."  
  
Q's blazing aura went out upon being faced with the polite ultimatum. "This is starting to become very frustrating."  
  
"Happens to everyone," Eilerson responded. Lennier merely nodded in agreement from where he knelt over the fainted body of Vir Cotto.  
  
"Matthew?" commented Galen, as he motioned the captain towards the human appearing being who was still wearing white robes but was now not floating or glowing.  
  
Gideon motioned with his head for Lochley to walk up with him. "Well, first tell us something of this other universe you want us to go to."  
  
As the two captains and a reluctant Q conferred, Eilerson approached Galen. "Just wanted to say thanks for stepping up there. I was beginning to think I might get fried."  
  
"But isn't that ultimately what our crusade has been?" asked Galen. "To give help to our fellow sentients in need. How could we think we could help those infected with the plague if we aren't able to also help those we share that duty with."  
  
"Yeah, I guess you are right. So who do you think the lucky four are that get to go on this other crusade?"  
  
The mage seemed to think a moment. "Bester for one. Possibly Lennier. As for the other two, I think the two captains are discussing that very decision right now."  
  
***  
  
ALTERNATE UNIVERSE APRIL 10, 2002 SMALLVILLE, KANSAS "Come on, you two! That picnic basket can't be that heavy," called out the cute shorthaired blond.  
  
Clark grinned as he and Lana quickened their pace to catch up with Chloe and Lex. "How much farther is it? Pete and Whitney may not find us if we go much farther."  
  
"Pete's the one who told me of this place," responded Chloe. "And there's a nice clearing by the stream on the other side of that willow tree. Once you see it you will know it's a great place for a picnic and a campfire."  
  
"I hope somebody brought marshmallows," said Lex. The bald-headed young man stuck to the shade provide by the trees as much as possible to keep from getting sunburned on his scalp. Looking around, he was glad that he had accepted his new friends' invitation to a picnic. It sure beat going through the Luthor Corp books again on a Saturday.  
  
"That's one of the things Whitney and Pete are suppose to pick up," mentioned Lana.  
  
"One of the things?" asked Clark as he looked down at the huge picnic basket he was carrying. "This basket is completely full. I have a hard time believing that you forgot very many things."  
  
"Better too much than too little, Clark."  
  
Clark nodded. As they came around the willow tree, he saw Chloe twirling around in the wild grass. The sunlight shining in her hair. Her laughter mixing with the sounds of the stream behind her. Her smile-  
  
"-ark?"  
  
"Huh? What?" Clark snapped out of daze and looked over sheepishly over to Lana. "Um, I'm sorry. Did you say something?"  
  
"I said you could put the food over there in the shade of the tree," Lana said in a very neutral voice. Then she turned and went over to the stream.  
  
Sighing, Clark put the basket where she said. He also noticed that Chloe had stopped playing in the sun and had gone over to join Lana by the stream.  
  
Lex bent down to inspect the food in the basket. "Wow. You would think it was Thanksgiving." Looking up, he saw his younger friend looking at the longhaired brunette and shorthaired blond by the stream. "You know, for a simple farmboy, you sure lead a complex life, Clark."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Lex was about to answer when a grinding sound cut through the air. Both of the young women by the stream were turned around as they looked for the sound's origin but could see nothing. Finally, a large wooden telephone booth slowly came into existence between them and Lex and Clark.  
  
The two young men hurried over to Lana and Chloe. Lana wanted to stay by the stream, but Chloe was already walking up to the new object.  
  
"Chloe," began Clark. "We should-"  
  
The door of the telephone booth opened up and a curly haired man with a toothy smile and wide eyes stepped out. He wore a long, heavy coat with an incredibly long multicolored scarf and a floppy hat. "Hello! I'm the Doctor. I'm looking for someone. Would one of you happen to be Kryptonian?"  
  
"The what?" Chloe shook her head at the unknown term. "Does this have anything to do with the green meteorite fragments?"  
  
The Doctor blinked. "The kryptonite?" he said, hoping that they had found a common reference point.  
  
"Kryptonite?" inquired Lex.  
  
"The broken remains of the planet Krypton," explained the Doctor all too happily. "You see, when the planet exploded because of its unstable core, pieces of the planet were scattered across the galaxy."  
  
"And this Kryptonian you are looking for?" asked Chloe, thinking that the answer may explain a great many of her questions.  
  
"The last surviving man from that planet. His parents sent him towards this planet in an experimental shuttle just as their planet was preparing to explode."  
  
"So he came here as a man?" asked Lana, who was feeling more than a little uncomfortable about the subject. She took hold of Clark's arm for reassurance.  
  
"No. No. A small child. I believe his parents called him Kal-El or Kal-L. I'm not exactly sure on the exact pronunciation."  
  
"Kal-El," Clark whispered to himself as if to reclaim a lost secret. This whole moment was like a dream come true mixed in with a nightmare for him. But for all his fears and apprehensions at everything unfolding before him, he found himself unable to move due to the shock.  
  
"So this child would have arrived about the same time as the Krypton meteor fragments?" Chloe asked.  
  
"Possibly," admitted the Doctor. "It would have depended on the speed of the craft that brought him here though."  
  
"What does he look like?" asked Lana. "Is he green like the rocks? Does he have tentacles? Arms? Does he even have a face?" Clark gently patted her hand to keep her from trembling. "Is he dangerous?"  
  
"From what I understand, he looks very much like a Human. You would be surprised at the number of aliens that do. That is probably the main reason his parents chose to send their son to this planet. So that he could fit in and grow up in a reasonably similar environment. One where he could grow up like everyone else."  
  
"It sounds creepy," muttered Lana.  
  
The Doctor took a moment to look at her. "Is it creepy for parents to want their child to survive certain doom and to try find a way for him to grow up in a somewhat normal setting so he won't have to suffer the fear of being an outcast merely for being different."  
  
Lana said nothing.  
  
"Excuse me," interrupted Lex, who had been studying Clark a moment before, "but why are you looking for this boy?"  
  
"Oh, I hope to seek his aid in saving a planet."  
  
"What!" This was getting too much for Clark. "How can--how can he do that?"  
  
"Well, he has a variety of powers thanks to his living on this world's lower gravity and the effects this planet's yellow sun has on his body. The yellow solar rays have enpowered his body miraculously in a number of ways."  
  
In spite of himself, Clark looked up in surprise at the sun shining down on him. Then down at his hand. He had never thought that his powers had a power source.  
  
Behind the Doctor, Leela and K-9 exited the TARDIS. "Doctor, have we found what we were looking for?" asked Leela.  
  
"K-9?" asked the Doctor.  
  
The little dog-like robot set its ears to twitching for a second. "Affirmative, master. The Kryptonian is one of the group you were communicating with."  
  
"Excellent!"  
  
"What!" exclaimed Lana. Lex and Chloe both looked at her as if they had both just had the same epiphany. No. They weren't looking at her. They were looking at. "Clark?" She let go of his arm and fell away from him, landing hard in the grass. "Clark? No! This isn't.No!"  
  
"Lana, I'm still Clark. I'm still me," he said as he stayed where he was, not even daring to look at her.  
  
Lana didn't know what to think so she just stayed there where she fell staring up at him in shock.  
  
Chloe turned away from the scene and faced the Doctor. "So he got these powers from the kryptonite fragments?" she speculated.  
  
"What a strange idea. No, from what I have heard the kryptonite would weaken him and most likely kill him with any extended exposure."  
  
Lana gasped and reached towards her neck where she used to wear her special necklace. The necklace made from the meteorite that had killed her parents. The same necklace that must have been killing Clark every time he came near her. And yet he had kept coming like a moth drawn to a flame. "Why didn't you say something?"  
  
Clark just looked down at the ground.  
  
"What could he say?" pointed out Lex. "Especially when he knew that even those closest to him would most likely freak if they knew he was from another planet." Clark nodded his thanks at Lex. "I always suspected you were keeping something secret, Clark. But I had no idea it was something like this."  
  
"Well I wouldn't have freaked," Chloe stammered. "We were friends. You could have come to me."  
  
"And your 'Wall Of Weird'?" asked Lex, commenting on Chloe's collection on all the bizarre reports on strange happenings that have occurred since the meteorite strike.  
  
"He-he wouldn't have been put on 'The Wall'. I wouldn't have done that to Clark."  
  
"Thanks, Chloe," responded Clark. "And thanks, Lex."  
  
"Lex?" asked the Doctor. "Lex Luthor?"  
  
"Yes?" asked Lex.  
  
"And you are friends with Clark?"  
  
"Yes, I thought that was obvious. How did you know my name?"  
  
"Maybe the Luthor family is infamous where ever he comes from, too," joked Chloe.  
  
"It's probably nothing," replied the worried time-lord who had suddenly wished he had done a lot more reading on this subject a number of regenerations ago. "It's just so hard to get all the facts straight while jumping to parallel realities. But now I think it is time for me to discuss what I came here for."  
  
*****  
  
SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE THE ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER  
  
Duncan MacLeod hummed an old Celtic tune his mother had taught him as he walked to his car. Ever since the building of the convention center, parking had become scarcer. He had had to go several blocks away from Joe's Bar just to find a place to park. And then he had found that Joe wasn't even there.  
  
Since it wasn't Joe's night off it probably meant he was off on Watcher business. Even though Joe had lost both legs in Vietnam, he hadn't let that slow him down once he had found his place in the Watchers organisation. He was getting up there in years and he still insisted on traipsing after immortals from time to time.  
  
MacLeod just shook his head as he walked up to his Thunderbird. Sliding into the front seat, he put the key into the ignition to start the car and his world very literally exploded around him.  
  
---  
  
Kenny jumped in glee as he ran down the street toward the burning car. He had waited a week for this moment and he was determined that this time Duncan's head was his. Kenny was one of a select group of people how had discovered, after having died and come back to life again, that he was immortal. One of the biggest downsides of this was that Immortals were also cursed to have to hunt each other in order to behead their rivals. In this way, the winner of the head received some of the essence and power of loser. And this 'Game', as they called it, was to continue until only one Immortal remained. For Kenny, another difficulty was that he had died young. For the last nine hundred years he had been trapped inside the body of a non-ageing eleven-year-old body. This being the case, he resorted to a less honorable means of attaining his goal.  
  
A few yards from the burning wreckage, the young appearing immortal looked around for bystanders but saw none as of yet. Reaching behind his back and underneath his coat, the boy pulled out a machete.  
  
Suddenly the door of the car flew open and a partially flaming body came out, rolling on the ground extinguish the flames. When most of the flames were just about out, Duncan just laid there facedown on the ground a few yards from his attacker.  
  
Kenny took a breath to give himself courage. Duncan was not someone to take likely, which is why he had practised this particular method five times before returning for Duncan's head. Closing the distance between them, Kenny lifted up his machete to deliver the final blow when he noticed three people headed his way.  
  
"MacLeod, I should have as much luck as you. But it won't save you forever," the boy spate at his intended victim. Turning away from the people headed his way, the boy Immortal ran down a nearby alleyway and almost tripped over a drunk that had passed out in the entrance.  
  
---  
  
Carl Kolchak listened carefully to the retreating footsteps. When he had judged that the youthful Immortal was far enough away, he got up from where he had been lying sprawled out on the ground. He quietly shook his raincoat so that he would no longer appear as a derelict. Grinning to himself, he let out a sigh of relief. He had been MacLeod's Watcher for only a few months but he had come to respect him in that short period.  
  
After Kolchak's newspaper career had dried up due to people not believing the incredible stories he reported, sometimes supernatural or extraterrestrial, he took all of the information he had been gathering and had them printed in a series of books. It turned out that the book writing business was much more profitable and gave him more leeway than the newspapers ever did. While researching for more material to write six years ago, he happened to stumble across a quickening. He watched the localized electrical storm leave the beheaded victim and slowly funnel its way into the woman with a sword kneeling above the corpse.  
  
While he knew he had come across something new and extraordinary, he still had no idea what. That is until the Watchers of the two Immortals came up and introduced themselves to him. They had both recognised him and believed him to be Watcher material and asked him to join. Intrigued, he did so and was amazed at all the information they had been storing for years. Plus, he could write to his hearts content, not for the general disbelieving public, but for a select group that already accepted the existence of his subjects.  
  
It wasn't all fun and games. Carl's first solo subject had been a young Immortal of only five years that had been stuck permanently at appearing twenty-six years old. Her name had been Tracy Vetter, a Toronto police detective who had been shot just as her career had been starting. Shortly after sneaking out of the morgue, she had been discovered and trained by another female Immortal named Amanda. It had been a conflicting relationship however and Tracy soon set out on her own after mastering some swordplay. The thing that had shook her most, however, was not her new life, but when she learned of the death of her partner, Detective Nick Knight and his close friend, Natalie Lambert.  
  
She had avoided any strong ties after that and instead moved from place to place helping out at youth centers and soup kitchens. She stuck close to holy ground when she could but didn't run from a fight. Carl had watched her take three quickenings before she lost her head in a challenge ten months ago.  
  
Seeing Carl in a bout of despair, Joe Dawson encouraged the man to go back to his duties and this time, after pulling a few strings, Carl had been assigned to Duncan MacLeod.  
  
Carl stayed where he was in the shadows of the alley as he watched the three individuals walk up to the just awakening figure of the burnt highlander. He did a double take at first. It looked as if the three were on their way to some costumed party as they were all dressed up in similar cyborg-like costumes.  
  
Duncan turned over and gasped in pain as he returned to awareness. But before he could do anything, one of the three people above him knelt down and stabbed him in his stomach.  
  
To Carl's shock and confusion, grayish veins began spreading across Duncan's hands and face as he rolled on the ground in agony. Carl quickly brought out his camcorder and turned it on. Whatever was going on was definitely new and would be of great interest to the Watchers. And he knew it would be of even more interest to Joe.  
  
---  
  
At a nearby dumpster, three other individuals looked on at the events going on before them. All three held great sympathy for what was going on before them but at the same time knew they couldn't do anything just yet.  
  
"Why has God allowed such a thing?" asked Monica.  
  
"We will know everything at the proper time," answered Tess. "But meanwhile we have our assignments to keep us busy."  
  
"Is it the Immortal man or the one who watches him?" asked the first angel.  
  
"Neither," answered Tess. "You are to give guidance of the boy Immortal, Kenny." She paused for a moment as in retrospect. "And also guidance to any others that seem to be sorely tempted."  
  
Monica just nodded. Kenny has long been a hurting soul who had long been in need of comforting and guidance. As for giving help to any others along the way, well, that just came natural to the angel. "And Andrew's purpose here?" she asked as she looked over at the blond angel of death.  
  
Andrew smiled. "I get to visit an old friend."  
  
"And you, Tess?"  
  
"Oh, you'll see me from time to time. I have a few little odds and ends to see to."  
  
*****  
  
STAR TREK TEAM  
  
Guinin - (Whoopi Goldberg)  
  
Montgomery "Scotty" Scott - (James Doohan)  
  
Dr. Julian Bashir - (Siddig El Fadil)  
  
Garak - (Andrew Robinson)  
  
Tom Paris - (Robert Duncan McNeill)  
  
Adm. Owen Paris - (Richard Herd)  
  
---  
  
Detective Convention Characters Appearances and Cameos  
  
In order of appearance  
  
SIMON & SIMON (1981-1988)  
  
A.J. Simon - (Jameson Parker)  
  
Rick Simon - (Gerald Raney)  
  
MAGNUM PI (1980-1988)  
  
Thomas Magnum - (Tom Selleck)  
  
THE FALL GUY (1981-1986)  
  
Jody Banks - (Heather Thomas)  
  
Colt Seavers - (Lee Majors)  
  
T.J. HOOKER (1982-1986)  
  
Thomas J. Hooker - (William Shatner)  
  
HARDCASTLE & MCCORMICK (1983-1986)  
  
Judge Milton C. 'Hardcase' Hardcastle - (Brian Keith)  
  
CHIPS (1977-1986)  
  
Officer Francis Llewellyn 'Ponch' Poncherello - (Erik Estrada)  
  
NYPD BLUE (1993-)  
  
Detective Andy Sipowicz - (Dennis Franz)  
  
SILK STALKINGS (1991-1999)  
  
Sgt. Chris Lorenzo - (Rob Estes)  
  
X-FILES (1993-2002)  
  
Fox Mulder - (David Duchovny)  
  
Dana Scully - (Gillian Anderson)  
  
QUINCY (1976-1983)  
  
Dr. Quincy - (Jack Klugman)  
  
DIAGNOSIS MURDER (1993-2001)  
  
Dr. Mark Sloan - (Dick Van Dyke)  
  
MILLENNIUM (1996-1997)  
  
Frank Black - (Lance Henriksen)  
  
C.S.I.: CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATION (2001-2002)  
  
Gil Grissom - (William Petersen)  
  
THE LONE GUNMEN (2001)  
  
John Fitzgerald Byers - (Bruce Harwood)  
  
Melvin Frohike - (Tom Braidwood)  
  
Richard "Ringo" Langly - (Dean Haglund)  
  
REMINGTON STEELE (1982-1987)  
  
Remington Steele - (Pierce Brosnan)  
  
Laura Holt - (Stephanie Zimbalist)  
  
COLUMBO (1971-2002)  
  
Lt. Columbo - (Peter Falk)  
  
KATE LOVES A MYSTERY (1979)  
  
Mrs. Kate Columbo - (Kate Mulgrew)  
  
SCARECROW AND MRS. KING (1983-1987)  
  
Mrs. Amanda King - (Kate Jackson)  
  
Lee "Scarecrow" Stetson - (Bruce Boxleitner)  
  
MURDER, SHE WROTE (1984-1996)  
  
Jessica Beatrice 'J.B' McGill Fletcher - (Angela Lansbury)  
  
INVISIBLE MAN (2000-2002)  
  
Darien Fawkes - (Vincent Ventresca)  
  
Agent Bobby Hobbes - (Paul Ben-Victor)  
  
Charles "The Official" Borden - (Eddie Jones)  
  
Claire "The Keeper" Keeply - (Shannon Kenny)  
  
JAMES BOND  
  
James Bond - (pick whichever James Bond actor you liked best. Personally, I choose Sean Connery)  
  
SPECTRE  
  
LE FEMME NIKITA  
  
Section One  
  
THE ANDY GRIFFITH SHOW (1960-1968)  
  
Deputy Barney Fife - (Don Knotts)  
  
PRETENDER (1996-2000)  
  
Jarod - (Michael T. Weiss)  
  
Miss Parker/Catherine Parker - (Andrea Parker)  
  
Sydney/Jacob - (Patrick Bauchau)  
  
Broots - (Jon Gries)  
  
SENTINEL (1996-1999)  
  
Detective James Ellison - (Richard Burgi)  
  
Blair Sandburg - (Garett Maggart)  
  
SEVEN DAYS (1998-2001)  
  
Lt. Frank Parker - (Jonathan LaPaglia)  
  
Dr. Bradley Talmadge - (Alan Scarfe)  
  
WALKER, TEXAS RANGER (1993-2001)  
  
Cordell Walker - (Chuck Norris)  
  
---  
  
BABYLON 5 / CRUSADE  
  
Dr. Sarah Chambers - (Marjean Holden)  
  
Captain Matthew Gideon - (Gary Cole)  
  
Alfred Bester - (Walter Koenig)  
  
Galen - (Peter Woodward)  
  
Dureena Nafeel - (Carrie Dobro)  
  
Captain Elizabeth Lochley - (Tracy Scoggins)  
  
Lennier - (Bill Mumy)  
  
Vir Cotto - (Stephen Furst)  
  
Zack Allen - (Jeff Conaway)  
  
Max Eilerson - (David Allen Brooks)  
  
SMALLVILLE (2001-2002)  
  
Clark Jerome Kent/Kal-El - (Tom Welling)  
  
Lana Lang - (Kristin Kreuk)  
  
Lex Luthor - (Michael Rosenbaum)  
  
Chloe Sullivan - (Allison Mack)  
  
HIGHLANDER (1992-1997)  
  
Duncan MacLeod - (Adrian Paul)  
  
Connor MacLeod - (Christopher Lambert)  
  
Methos/Adam Pierson - (Peter Wingfield)  
  
Joe Dawson - (Jim Byrnes)  
  
Kenny - (Andrew Cord)  
  
Felicia Martins - (Joan Jett)  
  
KOLCHAK: THE NIGHT STALKER (1984-1985)  
  
Carl Kolchak - (Darren McGavin)  
  
FOREVER KNIGHT (1992-1994)  
  
Tracey Vetter - (Lisa Ryder)  
  
TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL (1994-?)  
  
Monica - (Roma Downey)  
  
Andrew - (John Dye)  
  
Tess - (Della Reese)  
  
*****  
  
Author's Note:  
  
I'm putting a lot in this story. I will do my best to make it as interesting as possible for everybody. I hope everybody who reads this will enjoy it. I do apologize for all the delays there were to get this posted. I will endeavor to try getting the rest of it out sooner. 


	2. chapter 2

ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER  
  
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON, USA Mulder grabbed hold of the skinny young man who was trying to get to the fallen man on the ground. "Hey! You can't go there right now!" Mulder's reasoning for this was very apparent in the number of cybernetic beings coming through the door. Some were clearly not Human, but what surprised Mulder even more was that each seemed to have had one of its arms replaced with a large prosthetic device for a purpose which Mulder couldn't guess. Each invader wore the same type of outfit and had similar metallic sheen to its skin. Even more frightening was that that they all seemed to walk in a zombie-like trance.  
  
The young man that Mulder held wasn't about to listen to the FBI agent while his friend needed him. "You don't understand!" he argued as he tried to wrestle free. "I'm Jim's Guide! He needs me! His Sentinel abilities may be overloading and I may be his only chance to come through this!"  
  
Mulder wasn't sure what the young man was babbling about. He remembered a myth about Sentinel warriors and their Guides but that had come from small remote villages in South America and neither of the two men displayed those kind of features, so he dismissed that avenue of thought. His immediate concern was not letting the young man rush blindly into danger. When Jim and the other three men had attempted to get the jump on the drone-like beings, Jim had been stabbed from a long needle-like spike that had come from out from between one of the invaders knuckles.  
  
The other people in the large hall of the convention center were unsure of what to do. As this was a convention, weapons were not allowed, especially since the President of the United States had visited and delivered a short speech there just two days previously. However, it had also just been demonstrated in front of them that these strange attackers could infect them in some way so no one really wanted to go hand to hand with them.  
  
Colt Seavers, who Mulder recognized as well-known stuntman and bounty hunter, had a large man that may or may not have been Human in a headlock. Before Mulder could call out a warning a nearby attacker stabbed the stuntman in his right arm. Within a second, Colt's arm showed signs of gray circuitry spreading under his skin. This transformation was much more apparent due to the short sleeve shirt that the man wore.  
  
Mulder heard Dana gasp as she saw the same thing he had seen. We got to get out of here, he thought. Luckily they seem slow moving so we might have a chance. "Everybody, go to the exits! We--"  
  
The young man that Mulder had been restraining suddenly kneed him in the groin and caught him with an elbow to the jaw.  
  
Stars briefly clouded his vision as the young man escaped from his grasp. Shaking his head clear, he saw just as the young man reached his friend Jim. A nearby attacker turned towards the young man and fired some type of laser beam that caused the longhaired young man to fall over unconscious, or possibly dead.  
  
The laser beam changed everything. Everyone who had just gotten the courage to face these bizarre attackers unarmed suddenly realized just how outmatched they were.  
  
"Everybody out now!" demanded Scully.  
  
The two other men that were already engaged in wrestling with the Borg were doing their best to disengage. Cordell Walker, who Mulder had met the first day of the convention, seemed to be fairing best but he was still outnumbered. As he dropped a drone with a flying kick, he turned to face another that just came through the door. In spite of himself, he took a step back. The creature facing him was clearly the most non-Human looking of the bunch. It was easily seven feet tall with reptilian features, large crystal-like eyes, lots of large shape teeth as well as a single horn on the top of his head.  
  
A shot rang out followed by another. Each shot hit the borgified Gorn in the head and thus killing it.  
  
Mulder turned to find a balding man with a smoking gun. "Bobby Hobbes. I'm with the Agency," he explained. The man and woman next to him had shocked expressions on their faces and were both looking off into space as if trying to see something that wasn't there.  
  
As the remaining people turned to leave, the strange invaders opened fire on the crowd. People began falling to the floor, causing the rest to panic even more and rush to the exit at the other end of the hall. Frank Black fell near the arriving drones and was soon injected with nanoprobes as well. Dr. Quincy fell near the restroom door. Dr. Sloan turned to help but was also hit with a stun beam. A.J. Simon fell unconscious into a large potted plant but his brother, Rick, was able to pick him up and carry him out the rest of the way. Unfortunately, Rick was not able to help Detective Sipowicz or Sgt. Chris Lorenzo and had to step over their fallen bodies. He even regretted leaving behind Judge 'Hardcase' Hardcastle. The Columbos joined together in carrying out Officer Hooker. Amanda King managed to get help from Officer Poncherello in dragging Lee's body towards the door, then Poncherello also was hit by a stun beam, leaving Amanda to drag her husband the rest of the way on her own.  
  
Mulder saw Laura Holt, the woman with Remington Steele, become one of those to fall. Mr. Steele quickly pulled her to the side and checked her vitals. Seeing a drone coming up on the man, Mulder called out a warning. To the federal agent's amazement, Steele whipped around and lashed out with a old cavalry-type sabre that he had pulled out from somewhere.  
  
Mulder's first thoughts were of the security of the convention center. It was one thing to get one gun in. Quite another for someone to be able to sneak a edged weapon of that size in on his person. And then there was the fact that they were being attacked by some type of cybernetic zombie aliens. The second thing that came to his mind was that Mr. Remington Steele might have some connection to his bizarre headhunting x-file. He just knew that Scully wouldn't like that theory. He glanced over at his partner and he could immediately see that she had already approached that conclusion. Especially as Remington stabbed the drone through with his sword and was swinging the blade at another.  
  
"Scully, I--"  
  
"Later, Mulder. We have other things to worry about. You get the others out of here and I'll help the Gunmen with Langly."  
  
Mulder just nodded. Trust Scully to sensible even in the most bizarre situations. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man with a Hawaiian shirt trying to use a potted plant to keep a drone away from himself. Suddenly, the drone was knocked away.  
  
"Thanks," Thomas Magnum replied to no one in particular.  
  
"Not a problem," came the reply from the empty space in front of him.  
  
"What in the world?" exclaimed the Hawaiian detective.  
  
Mulder watched as another drone, this one with obscenely large ears, was suddenly hit in the face.  
  
"That's my boy," Mulder heard Hobbes mutter to himself.  
  
Hobbes had taken refuge behind a large potted plant and was exchanging clips in his gun when Mulder knelt down beside him. "What's going on out there? It's like somebody is fighting them but there's nobody there." There were at least a dozen of the creatures in the room now and they were spreading out. Some were stunning people with their laser weapons; others were injecting the stunned people with gray substance.  
  
"Sorry. That's on a need to know basis."  
  
"Hey! I'm with the FBI."  
  
"Yeah, and right now you still don't need to know. Deal with it."  
  
Meanwhile, the Borg were also attempting to deal with a new problem. A series of red tracking lasers from their prosthetic eyes swept over the area. Finally, the red beams of light from all the nearby drones converged on one spot and outlined the body of a man.  
  
"That looks like the guy that I saw with you," began Mulder.  
  
"Darien!" Hobbes cried out as he emptied another clip of bullets at the drones. The only problem was that the bullets didn't seem to be bothering the intruders any more. "Get out of there now!"  
  
The formerly invisible man looked down at the red outlines of his body for about half a second then tried to rush to safety. He didn't make it. A female drone lashed out with the tubules extended from her left arm with which she punctured him with on the right side of his chest.  
  
"Nooo!"  
  
The cry of denial to the stabbed was quite expected but it had come from the wrong source. Mulder looked back at Frank Parker who had been waiting behind the cover of a grand piano with old, skinny country sheriff and his much more robust deputy who seemed to have taken charge of Mr. Parker for the time being.  
  
"Kill him! Kill him now!" insisted the self-proclaimed FSA man.  
  
Thomas Magnum smashed the potted plant down on the female Borg's head while the Texas Ranger, Cordell Walker, was kicking the drones into each other as a means of knocking them over like dominos. Both men were being overrun by the drones, and they knew that it was only a matter of time before they went down, when a grand piano was quickly pushed into the oncoming drones.  
  
"We thought you could use a hand," Jarod said with a grin as he adjusted the large musical instrument for the best protection from the drones.  
  
Frank Parker went past the men to the fallen and now visible Darien. He was just about to break the man's neck when a bullet hit him in the shoulder.  
  
Hobbes stood over Parker with a gun aimed directly at man's head. "Don't you even go near him," he said coldly.  
  
Mulder ducked as he hurried over to the Agency man. "What's going on?" he demanded.  
  
Parker held a hand over the wound in his shoulder and winced in pain. "The Borg, they seek technology that is advanced and unique so they can adapt it to their own purposes. They do the same thing with biological uniqueness."  
  
"How do you know all this?" asked Jarod.  
  
Frank sighed. "You probably aren't going to believe this but I'm from seven days in your future. Only there isn't much future left for anyone because the Borg were spreading like wildfire. And we couldn't keep track of them because they had gained the ability to turn invisible. We didn't know how they had gained that ability but now I see it was because they were able to assimilate that guy," he said as he nodded towards Darien who was writhing in pain.  
  
Mulder blinked in surprise. Now he had to deal with time travel as well. This was his kind of day.  
  
"I don't mean to rush anyone," commented Magnum, "but I don't think we are out of the woods just yet."  
  
Mulder looked over the side of the piano briefly and saw the remaining drones converging on them.  
  
"Bombs away!" A large vase filled with white decorative marbles smashed on the floor near the drones. Suddenly all of the drones found themselves off balance and falling down asw they were unable to maintain their balance on the small marbles everywhere.. Everybody turned to see Remington Steele who had already picked up his sabre again and was returning to where his unconscious wife lay.  
  
"Bo-Bobby?" Darien managed to say.  
  
Hobbes quickly moved over to his friend. The greyish metallic veins spreading under Darien's skin made Hobbes want to turn away but instead he managed to put on a smile. "Hey there."  
  
"You have to--to kill me, Bobby." Before Hobbes could protest, Darien continued. "Take the--take the gland with you. Can't--can't let them have that. I--I don't want the world to be taken over because of me."  
  
"Darien, listen to me. It's--" Hobbes found himself looking into his friend's eyes but they were vacant.  
  
"It's better if he were to die now," insisted Frank Parker. "If they finish assimilating him, he'd always be a part of them and we can't let that happen."  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"Uh, you probably don't want to hear this, but those Borg guys are getting up again," pointed out Sheriff Fife with eye wide with fear.  
  
"Okay, we are out of here," said Cordell Walker. "Myself and the guy with the Hawaiian shirt will cover you."  
  
"The name's Magnum. Thomas Magnum."  
  
"Nice to met you. What do you say we use this piano to knock some more over, then get out of here," he asked rhetorically.  
  
"Sounds like a plan."  
  
While those two prepared to do that, Mulder hurried over to Remington Steele who was just picking up his wife. "Sorry to bother you, but I need to borrow your sword."  
  
The dark haired didn't have much time to judge Mulder's character but these were unusual times. "Here," he held out the blade. "Be sure to give it back."  
  
"I promise," said the FBI man. Mulder hurried back with the weapon just as Parker and Hobbes had started arguing again. "Shut up! We don't have time for this!"  
  
"What the sword for?" Hobbes asked suspiciously.  
  
Mulder pointed with the sword at the zombie-like Darien. "He said we couldn't let them have a gland and we have to get it somehow."  
  
Hobbes resolved himself and gritted his teeth. "Give it here."  
  
"I'll do it," said Mulder, wishing to spare the man further pain.  
  
"I said, Give! It! Here!" Hobbes demanded now with the gun pointed at the FBI agent.  
  
Reluctantly, Mulder handed the sabre over. Hobbes studied the old weapon for a moment, whispered a request for forgiveness, then with a swift motion swung the blade through his friend's neck.  
  
Hobbes gasped for air as he watched the red and grey fluids spill on the flood. "Grab the head. That is where the gland is," mumbled Hobbes and the sword fell from his numb fingers.  
  
Jarod went and helped lead Hobbes to the exit. Sheriff Fife was about to assist Frank Parker up but instead self-proclaimed time traveller rolled over to the female drone that had been knocked out.  
  
"Hey, I recognise her!" exclaimed Parker. "We have to take her with us."  
  
"What," cried out the sheriff in a high pitched voice. "Are you out of your mind? Didn't you see how dangerous those things were?"  
  
Parker looked up at the old, skinny sheriff. He had no idea how the man had got into that position but that wasn't for him to judge; Parker himself had been a burnout who had found himself placed in a time travelling program to change events in history. "Listen. There are people looking for her. Besides, she may be able to help us." He leaned over the female Borg drone and began carefully yet quickly removing some of the components off her body.  
  
"What are you doing?" Mulder asked.  
  
"Removing the primary components so that she won't be in contact with the group mind, uh, the Collective I think it is called."  
  
"You can do that?" asked the sheriff as he stared down at all the technology stuck to the young woman's body. "I can't even hook up my VCR or stereo system correctly."  
  
"Someone told me about it," he answered enigmatically. "I'll introduce you to her after I meet her. Turning away from the puzzled sheriff, Parker looked up at Mulder, "Would you mind grabbing the sword and the head? We're in a terrible hurry." He empathised this statement by nodded to the drones being distracted by Magnum and Cordell.  
  
Mulder hurried to comply with the request while Jarod did his best to lift up the very weighted down female drone. Sheriff Barney Fife helped Parker to his feet then hurried over to help Jarod with his burden.  
  
As the others hurried out to safety, Mulder quickly pulled on the rubber gloves that Dana had insisted he always carry on his person. He took a moment to look at both items and to his surprise he almost threw up. Grabbing both, he hurried after the others. He stopped at the doorway to watch after Magnum and Walker to see if they would make it to safety. The only reason they had survived as long as they had was because for some reason or other these cybernetically attached beings were not at all fast on their feet.  
  
Mulder jumped suddenly as his cell phone rang, yet he instinctively answered it and put the sword down.  
  
"Mulder? This is Skinner. We have a x-file in Georgia that we need you on. How soon can you and Scully get out there?"  
  
"I'm afraid I can't just now," Mulder replied in his carefully monotone voice. "I'm already swamped with a number of x-files here. By the way, you might want to call the President, the Army, the Navy, the Air Force, the Marines, the National Guard and the Coast Guard. We have a situation here at the convention."  
  
*****  
  
AN ALLEY IN SEATTLE Ezekiel Stone hurried down the alleyway. The shadows were getting darker now as the sun was setting and that also meant the fugitive he was chasing would have a better chance of not being found. He had spent a week in pursuit of this fugitive with only the newspaper providing him with an idea of what type of area the perpetrator had left his handiwork. The only thing that Stone really had going for him at the moment was that his prey had no idea that Stone was on his trail.  
  
Hearing what he interpreted as a scuffle up ahead, Stone hurried forward as quietly as possible. Finally, he saw a figure fifteen feet in front of him kneeling over a small figure.  
  
Stone cursed silently to himself. Not another one! His current subject had a taste for young children and Stone had had to follow a trail of bodies for the last couple of days. Taking careful aim with his revolver, he called out to the man. The larger figure turned instinctively. Stone fired two shots; one for each eye. The child stalker clutched briefly at the bullet wounds where his eyes used to be as beams of bright light poured out of his being. After a second or two, the light intensified around the body and then both body and light faded away.  
  
Zeke let out a sigh of relief. It had gone a lot easier than he had expected. Suddenly, he sucked in a quick breath as a section of skin on his lower back felt like it was being burned away. And in reality it was.  
  
Years ago, Ezekiel had been a happily married man. He had also been a police officer with a rough beat. Life was hard but they were happy. Then one day a young hood beat and raped his wife. Stone tracked the man down with a vengeance but the law had been unable to prosecute due to a technicality. That was just too much for Stone. His wife was still hiding in their apartment, refusing to go out, refusing to answer the door, refusing to answer the phone, refusing to even go near a window. At that point Stone snapped. He tracked down the man that had raped his wife and gave the man an overdose of drugs. It wasn't the best thing in the world that he could have done but his wife did start going outside in the daytime again after she had heard that the rapist had been reported dead.  
  
A few weeks after that Ezekiel Stone was shot and killed in a shoot out with a drug dealing street gang. It came as a great surprise to him that he ended up in Hell. But then he had been told that many people that found themselves there were just as surprised as he was. For Stone, the story was over. Or at least it should have been. Over a hundred damned souls of the worst kind were able to escape.  
  
And the Devil was helpless. The Devil needed an agent on Earth to bring the damned back to the Devil where they belonged. At least that was what he told Stone. Stone didn't care. The opportunity to hunt down the escaped damned provided him with a means of getting out of Hell. And in order to make that stay permanent, he had to track down and return all of them. Their only weakness was to shoot or stab them through the eyes. And to make sure that he got everyone of his prey, the Devil tattooed symbols all over Stone's body. Each one represented one of those he hunted. And as he caught each one, a tattoo would burn itself off his body as it was doing now.  
  
As Stone straightened himself up, he heard someone gasping for breath. The boy! He quickly hurried over to a young boy almost in his teens. Stone had thought the boy would be dead, but if Stone had arrived just in time and the boy was alive. "Are you okay!"  
  
The boy blinked for a second as he got his bearings. "Where.?"  
  
"Gone," Stone answered simply. "You don't have to worry about him anymore."  
  
The boy coughed a little as he cleared his throat. Stone also noticed the boy slowly sliding a machete into his jacket. On closer inspection, Stone could tell that the kid was street hardened. Not as a gang member but as someone who actually lived on the street and did what they had to to take care of themselves, including protecting themselves. Still, the machete would not have been very useful against one of Hell's escapees.  
  
"Anything broken?"  
  
"No," the boy answered quickly as he pushed away Stone's hands.  
  
Stone took a few steps back so that the boy wouldn't feel threatened by his close proximity. "Alright, let's at least get you to a place to clean you up." Seeing the hesitation in the kid's eyes, he added, "And maybe even get you something to eat."  
  
The boy's stomach rumbled before he could say anything.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes, then. My name is Ezekiel. What's yours?"  
  
"Kenny. I'm called Kenny."  
  
*****  
  
Author's Note:  
  
I've been having a lot of fun with this story concept. It got me to thinking of a lot of creative crossovers. One of the funnier ones that I thought of but would never write was having the Borg invade Terry Pratchett's Discworld. And help could come from the Boyz of the Red Dwarf and Scooby Doo and friends. Lots of possibilities there. Shaggy and Lister eating one of C.M.O.T. Dibbler's sausages. Scooby talking with Gaspode and the Cat. Velma trying to study Kryten and the Luggage. Daphne having to choose between Fred and Captain Carrot. Vimes trying to not kill Rimmer as they argued. Greedo thinking that the Cat is intruding on his territory and attacking.  
  
Course, there are other interesting yet bizarre teams that could be brought in instead. Like characters from Piers Anthony's Xanth. Or the crew from Galaxy Quest. Or the Smurfs. Or Jackie Chan. Or the Super Friends. Or the Addams Family. Or the Munsters. Or Ghostbusters. Or Lost In Space. Or Men In Black. So many choices.  
  
As for me and my life, I have been very busy lately. I try to find time to write when I can but it is very difficult. I'll try to post more regularly even if it is shorter.  
  
Charlie 


	3. chapter 3

ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER  
  
Dana scanned the area. As people fled into the main lobby in hysterics, panic, or shock, they were met by four of the convention hall's security force. The security guards didn't stand a chance against the onslaught of frightened people as they scrambled by, some carrying unconscious people with them.  
  
Dana raised her FBI badge up for the guards and they immediately turned their attention to her in hopes of learning what was going on. "We have a situation here. We have to evacuate the building and seal off--"  
  
"Hold on!" demanded an overweight, balding man in a security uniform with the name Al on his security badge. "I'm in charge of security in this building and I'll be the one deciding if there is any evacuating to be done." The other security guards moved out of his way as he pushed himself forward, more out of not wanting to be in the fat man's way than out of respect. Dana was struck with an instant dislike for the man before her, who she could immediately see was filled with self-importance, arrogance, and incompetence.  
  
"Actually, I've been placed in charge of security here," replied a strong, female voice. Dana and everyone else turned to see a large, older black woman coming over to them.  
  
"Who are you?" demanded the first guard.  
  
"I'm the one who's in charge here, Albert," insisted the female security guard, not giving an inch to the other guard.  
  
"Under whose authority?" he demanded.  
  
"A higher authority than you are used to," commented the female guard with a harsher tone. "One that knows about your gambling pool that you organized, the bottles of scotch and vodka that you keep in your desk, as well as your verbal berating all those under your authority. Shall I go on, Albert?"  
  
The startled fat man looked uncertain for a moment, then turned and fled.  
  
"And the truth shall find you out," stated the female guard. She then turned her attention back to the redheaded FBI agent. "Now I believe you were asking for some assistance in evacuating the conference center," she asked rhetorically.  
  
"Yes, thanks." She thought for a minute. She really didn't want to send the inexperienced security guards out against the likes of the Borg. They all looked like they were either college students or retired men and women trying to get buy with a little more income to help supplement their retired fund. "If you could have them keep anybody from going from going back that way," she pointed the way she and the others had come, "and start evacuating the rest of the building--"  
  
"I'm afraid we may need some help with the evacuating part but I'm sure we can find some help with some of the people here since a number of them are in law enforcement."  
  
Scully nodded at the idea. "I'll start asking in a minute." Meanwhile, Tess, the now-unquestioned head of security, got some of the security guards milling around her to start acting on Dana suggestions. As Dana considered her options, she regarded the large woman in front of her again. "Have we meet before?"  
  
"Not officially. My name is Tess," replied the woman with a smile and held out a hand that Dana took and shook.  
  
The female federal agent's eye caught a glimpse of Mulder, and Dana gave a sigh of relief. She had been worried when she didn't see him soon after she had left. To her surprise, Mulder was talking with Remington Steele, who had his wife laid down across a couple of chairs. Mulder was awkwardly handing over a saber over to the other man. Remington frowned at the grayish-red fluids on it and expertly wiped it clean on some nearby curtains. Some people hurried by, blocking Scully's view for two seconds, but when she could see the two men again she noticed that the sword was gone and that Mulder had a surprised look on his face.  
  
"The hand is faster than the eye," commented Tess, who was watching the same scene as Dana.  
  
"Sorry, he's my partner and I was concerned when I didn't see him earlier."  
  
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, young lady. As far as I can see, he looks like a good man, though he has a few areas that need working on. But then don't they all?"  
  
"I meant partner as in my partner as an FBI agent," clarified Scully.  
  
"I wasn't trying to imply anything." Tess had a smile on her face that expressed an inner strength. An inner strength that Dana really felt she could use at this point.  
  
"Right." Ignoring Byers and Frohike as they hovered over the transforming Langly, ignoring the number of men and women crying out in panic attacks, even ignoring Mulder as he started pushing his way towards her, Dana stepped up on a nearby desk and let out a shrill whistle and held up her FBI identification. "People! Listen to me! As you know we have a situation here. Those of you willing to help, please line up at the far wall. The rest of you, please help each other evacuate in an orderly manner."  
  
A number of people seemed uncertain as to what to do. Tess made up their minds for them. "Come on, people! Move it or lose it! You heard the lady!" The large woman began direction the crowds of people with her voice. The other security guards quickly followed her example and began adding to her efforts.  
  
Dana took a moment to survey the people from on top of the desk. At least they are moving now, she thought. She spotted Mulder across the room, and he turned and winked at her. At that moment she was glad that she was so caught up into everything or she knew that she would have blushed. As it was, she noticed that Mulder's face reminded her of that of a little boy who had happily eaten more candy than he could stand.  
  
Looking over at those that were lining up on the far wall to help, she let out a sigh. She had hoped for more but she prayed that they would be enough. She was glad to see Gil Grissom in line as a volunteer even though she didn't have a moment to even speak to him. She also spotted Lennie Briscoe, who she had sat next to yesterday during a session on Federal/Local co-operation, which he commented was a real knee slapper. A tall man with a moustache was trying to get a smaller, sharply dressed man to leave with him. The blond, well-dressed man had obviously been one of those that had been stunned by the stun weapons in the other room but that wasn't keeping him from going against the Borg again. Dana was surprised to recognise another man that was recovering from the effects of the alien weaponry - a man she only knew of as Scarecrow. She made a mental note to talk to the agent at her earliest convenience. She also spotted Doug and Joey Penhall - brothers that she had joked with at breakfast while Mulder had been at a morning seminar. The brothers were obvious latecomers and had no idea what was going on but seemed more than willing to help.  
  
Grabbing one of the younger security guards and dragging him unprotestingly after her, she walked over to the group of volunteers which was also near a large vertical display map of the convention center. "Thank you all for stepping up. We don't have much time so I'm going to be brief."  
  
She pointed to the area they had all just fled from. "This area has already been compromised. We don't have any idea what has happened in the other areas but since we haven't seen anyone else fleeing from any of the other areas, we shall assume that they are still free of . the Borg." She turned to young security guard she had pulled over with her. "Now," she looked at his name badge quickly, "Fred here will be pointing out all the side doors and other access points that the Borg might use to gain entrance, so pay attention."  
  
The young man, though nervous, quickly began giving the men and women listening a fast rundown of the ins and outs of the various convention halls while Dana took a moment to breath again.  
  
---  
  
Remington gently, yet vigorously, rubbed Laura's hands. "C'mom, Laura. Open your eyes."  
  
"Ahhh," she started to groan as her eyes fluttered to life. "Wh-what happened?"  
  
"You were stunned unconscious."  
  
"Yes, but what happened?"  
  
"A bizarre rendition of a 1965 movie, 'War Of The Planets'. Basically, an alien group mind seems intent on conquering the universe by taking over peoples' bodies and using them as hosts to further their goals."  
  
"Seemed more like a Terminator movie to me, but never mind," Laura stated as her husband helped her to her feet. "What's everyone doing now?"  
  
"They are getting out of here. Just like we are," he stated as he started leading her to the exit.  
  
"Shouldn't we help?" asked Laura as she was half-carried, half-dragged along.  
  
"At this point, no. You are in no shape to tangle with whatever those things were and I am not about to be questioned by that federal agent about why I carry a saber."  
  
Laura pulled her husband to a stop for a second. "You brought out your sword?" Laura didn't know everything about Immortals like Remington but she did know that they had to keep a low profile.  
  
"It was necessary," he simply stated.  
  
"But, does that mean you'll have to--I mean, we'll have to get new identities?" She had come to terms that long time ago that she would never have the ability to live as he could. She just wanted to spend whatever remaining years she still had with him.  
  
"Possibly. But right now, I think it's best we get out of here and I take you over to a friend's place so that we can think about what we should do next."  
  
"But--"  
  
"No buts. People saw me with my sabre fighting those things. And I made quite the impression, if I do say so myself."  
  
"Is this friend of yours like you?"  
  
"Yes," he said as they walked through the exit door and into the early evening air of the Puget Sound.  
  
"What if he tries to-, you know." She made a slicing through the neck motion.  
  
"He wouldn't. He's the original Boy Scout."  
  
"I hope you're right," she commented as she turned her concentration back to keeping her feet underneath her.  
  
---  
  
Jarod usually liked new experiences, but in the last ten minutes he had begun to wish he had never left the Centre. Bobby Hobbes stood a few feet away, still in shock over his friend's death. Seeing that there was nothing he could do at the moment and knowing that the man needed a few minutes to himself, Jarod left Bobby staring into the water fountain.  
  
As the Pretender walked up to the group before him, he could immediately tell the tension was mounting as the FBI agent had returned to get more information out of Frank Parker.  
  
"Look, all I can tell you right now is that we have got to get to the Space Needle to meet our allies," blurted out the very frustrated time-traveler.  
  
Mulder had the look about his eyes that told Jarod that the man was trying to gauge the honesty of the man before him. "Are they Human? Or alien?"  
  
"Some are alien," admitted Parker. "Though all of them do come from a parallel universe."  
  
"This is all just crazy!" shouted Barney with a hint of hysteria in his voice. "We got to get the military out here and-"  
  
"No!" Mulder shouted. He looked around at the surprised expressions around him. "Not with aliens that have come to help us, I mean. The military more than have my blessing at trying their hand against the Borg but trust me when I say that it is best if very few people found out about these others coming to help us."  
  
"You talk like you've had experiences with encounters between the military and aliens before."  
  
Jarod's comment was not a question, though the man did sound like he understood the agent's distrust for the military and similar covert structures. "Something like that, yes," admitted the federal agent with a tone of bitterness that he didn't bother to hide. Mulder turned his focus back at Parker, who now had Jarod working on the bullet wound that Hobbes had inflicted on him. "Now, these aliens that are going to be our allies; they will be waiting for us at the Space Needle, right?"  
  
Frank nodded his head. "That is where they are arriving, yes, but they don't know that we know they are showing up there. I'm a time traveller. Remember? They won't even know that I've met them."  
  
Jarod grinned at the paradox Frank presented them with but Mulder wasn't that happy. "That means if we don't get there in time, we may not be able to contact them. And if you are telling me right, they don't even know whom to contact here."  
  
Since what Mulder said pretty much summed up everything, Frank just nodded.  
  
Mulder let out a sigh of frustration. "Alright, I'll be right back and we can go. I just have to tell this to my partner or she'll shoot me."  
  
Parker winced as Jarod began to apply a temporary bandage on his shoulder. "Yeah. You definitely wouldn't want that."  
  
Mulder managed a grin as he turned to leave.  
  
"Wait a minute," Barney spoke up. The Mayberry sheriff was not looking too fearless at the moment. "You want us to go with you to meet a bunch of aliens? Are you insane?"  
  
"Somebody has to help me," answered Mulder. "And I don't quite trust him yet," Mulder said as he pointed towards Hobbes, who was still staring into the fountain. "Or him either," he said as he nodded towards Frank Parker.  
  
"Hey! Thanks a lot!" Parker replied snidely.  
  
"Wait," interrupted Parker, "why can't you just meet with the aliens with your partner."  
  
"Well, firstly, she doesn't believe in aliens. Secondly, you're coming because they don't know me." He looked down at where Frank sat trying to get his arm comfortable. "And even if they don't know you, you know them. That might count for something." He turned to regard some other people nearby. "I also need help with bringing them."  
  
Barney gulped. "You mean you want us to help you with the zombies?"  
  
Frohike glared up from where he sat next to Langly's prone body. Next to them, Byers was examining the female drone that Parker had insisted that they take with them.  
  
"Bringing gifts," Jarod said as he caught on to Mulder's train of thought.  
  
"Exactly," answered Mulder.  
  
"But-but-" sputtered Sheriff Fife as he tried to put together something to say.  
  
"Let me put it to you this way," Mulder said. "Would you stay here and face those Borg things again or would you rather come with me and head over to the Space Needle?"  
  
"Um, you know I did promise to get a picture of myself at the Space Needle before I headed back to Mayberry," commented Barney.  
  
Mulder just nodded. He was about to go to talk to Scully again but spin back around on his heels. "Oh, and while you are at it, bring him, too. Alright?" he said, pointing to Bobby Hobbes.  
  
*****  
  
SARAH'S ESPRESSO AND SNACK SHACK Kenny took another sip of his iced espresso, carefully leaving a boyish moustache on his upper lip. It helped that he never used straws. Ezekiel Stone was a very keen observer, Kenny had determined, so he felt he had to make the extra effort to appear his 'age'. Not that Kenny was worried. He had over nine hundred years experience pretending to be what he wasn't: a boy.  
  
"You know, my mother always told me that drinking coffee at an early age would stunt my growth," commented Ezekiel.  
  
Kenny stifled a grimace as he set his cup down. "I'll keep that in mind," he said before biting into the chicken sandwich that Stone had bought him.  
  
Stone was something new in Kenny's experience. Ezekiel had the same do- gooder personality that MacLeod had, but it was tempered with something that had seriously altered him. And that made Kenny curious. Then there was the fact that Stone had somehow fought off the attacker that had gotten the drop on Kenny. That in and of itself impressed Kenny because he knew that his attacker had been no ordinary mortal. Kenny had made it a habit to hunt down child molesters as a means of practice to help prepare him for fighting other Immortals. The machete the boy Immortal used on the man that had jumped him in the alley would have left any ordinary mortal tripping over his own intestines. But instead, this sicko just laughed off Kenny's potentially fatal blow and back slapped him into unconsciousness with such strength that there was no way the Immortal could have done anything about it. And yet when he had come to, Ezekiel was there and had somehow chased off the creep. Whatever it was that Ezekiel had done, Kenny just had to know so he was willing to stick around the man awhile to see if he could work the information out of him.  
  
And then there was the fact that Kenny had stalked and taken the quickening of a man in New Orleans that another Immortal, Felicia Martins, had already cultivated through deception and marked for herself. Now for the past two months she had been chasing after Kenny all across the United States and Canada determined to take Kenny's own quickening, partially out of revenge, partially because she saw the 900-year-old boy Immortal as an easy mark. Something that Kenny was quite against. If he could get Stone to somehow wound Felicia, then Kenny might have enough opportunity to take her head and quickening, thus solving his problem most effectively.  
  
The small restaurant wasn't very busy so the service had been faster than usual, which was just fine to Kenny. He hadn't eaten in over a day and was more than willing to eat everything that was put in front of him, much to Stone's amazement.  
  
Kenny was about to take a bite of his third grilled ham and cheese sandwich when a chill suddenly went down his spine. It wasn't his quickening sense alerting him of another of his kind nearing his proximity, but the chill was just as demanding of his attention.  
  
The young-looking Immortal spun about in the booth he had been sitting in to look at the doorway but no one had come in for a while. If anyone had come in there would have been ringing from those annoying set of bells on the door. As far as Kenny was concerned it was more of an annoyance than a help.  
  
No one came in and no one could be seen out the plate glass windows of the restaurant, so Kenny relaxed a bit and turned to get back to his sandwich, his mind already working on an excuse to give Ezekiel for his strange actions.  
  
Once he had turned around, however, he was quite surprised to see an older man with a large grin sitting next to Stone and staring right at Kenny with eyes that seemed to be mocking him. Stone seemed rather perturbed at the man presence as well.  
  
"What do you want?" demand Ezekiel in a cold, no nonsense tone.  
  
"What? I can't come up and see how my favorite free agent is doing?" asked the man.  
  
There was something about the man that strongly suggested to Kenny that this was one person to be avoided. Kenny didn't know exactly what it was but he knew for sure that he really didn't want to find out.  
  
"I'll talk to you later," insisted Stone, with a little urgency in his tone.  
  
"Oh my, is that blood on your shirt, young man?" asked the newcomer, who in reality didn't sound all that concerned with any wounds Kenny might have. Apparently his intention was to make Kenny and Ezekiel uncomfortable.  
  
"Kenny was attacked by an escapee," Stone said as if that explained everything.  
  
"Oh, how the wicked will play," the stranger said mockingly. "Someone should just go out there and chop off heads of people like that, don't you think? Then the world would be a much better place."  
  
Kenny choked on his espresso, which seemed to start up the protective spark in Ezekiel. "Do you mind? It's hard enough for me to stand your bizarre sense of humor. Don't start infecting the young mind of a minor."  
  
The man laughed. "But, Ezekiel, that's what I do so well, influencing young minds with new thoughts. It's especially easy these days with all the television shows, movies and rap music. Besides, I really doubt that there is much for me to do with Kenny this late in the game."  
  
"Then you won't mind me spending some time with him," came a woman's voice. Kenny turned to see a young pretty brunette standing next to his seat. Where as the man had made Kenny feel uneasy because of his eeriness, this woman seemed to radiate a warm comfort that seemed to call to Kenny. "Hello, my name is Monica."  
  
"Leave!" bristled the man next to Stone. The anger on his face caused Kenny to blanch in fear, but Monica gently put a hand on the young Immortal's shoulder, which seemed to comfort him.  
  
"You know I don't take my orders from you," responded Monica.  
  
The man seethed for a moment, then with some effort managed to compose himself. "And what are your intentions here?"  
  
"To help where needed, as always," answered the young brunette.  
  
The unnamed man looked at her scornfully for a moment, looking back and forth between Kenny and Ezekiel, finally settling his eyes on Kenny. He laughed. "You're kidding, right? You haven't got a chance!"  
  
"That is up to Kenny to decide, now isn't it," responded Monica.  
  
"Um, what are we talking about?" asked Kenny, who really didn't like being the focus of this much attention.  
  
Before either of the two could answer, a grating sound began to fill the small restaurant.  
  
---  
  
Lana, who had been overawed by the wonders of the TARDIS was rather disappointed to see the rather bland view of people sitting down to eat upon exiting the Doctor's telephone booth. "This isn't a parallel world! This is a coffee shop!"  
  
"Don't be so quick to judge," said the Doctor as he pushed past her. "And don't go rushing blindly into situations about which you know little. That is for Leela and I to do." He stopped halfway down one of the restaurant aisles, ignoring the gaping people around him, then dramatically turned around. "It is also for Clark to do. He is much more durable," he surmised to Lana as Clark and the others stepped out of the TARDIS. Leela was followed by Lex, who seemed quite fascinated with the leather-clad woman. K- 9 followed behind Lex, partially because of the Doctor's orders and also because the bald Human had shown quite a interest in the canine unit's functions. Chloe, ever the reporter, slowly exited the TARDIS with much regret as she was still trying to write down everything she had seen in the small notebook she always carried.  
  
Seeing that everyone had exited, the Doctor quickly took the time to lock the TARDIS before focusing on the matter at hand. Spinning around, the time lord addressed his ready-made audience. "Now listen carefully. Has anyone here seen any cybernetic beings wandering about randomly attacking people?"  
  
A waitress snapped out of her shock enough to scream as she dropped her tray and then ran out the main entrance, quickly followed by another waitress and a number of the other patrons.  
  
"That was helpful," Lana commented snidely.  
  
"Yes," agreed the Doctor. "It gave us a chance to remove the less helpful people in the least amount of time. But I do suggest that from this point on that we all try to be less conspicuous," he said as he adjusted his large multicolored scarf around his neck.  
  
Lana was about to retort something back at the Doctor when Clark gently put a hand on her shoulder. "Let it be, Lana."  
  
The Doctor, meanwhile, fixed his attention on the only booth to still have people sitting at it. He was just about to introduce himself when he suddenly found himself pushed to the side.  
  
"You!" seethed Lex as he slammed the palms of his hands on the table. "Did you set this all up? Is this another game or test of yours?"  
  
"Me?" the man sitting next to Ezekiel tried to look shocked. "As hard as it may be for some to believe, I'm innocent of all this."  
  
"That would be a first," muttered Stone.  
  
"As much as I hate to say it," interrupted the young woman at the table, "he really isn't responsible for your being here. And he really isn't who you think he is either. He only looks like your father."  
  
"And how would you know that he looks like my father unless this whole shenanigan was set up by him. Who are you anyway? His strumpet of the week?" asked Luthor. The accused father figure laughed at the statement while the woman looked mortified.  
  
The woman was rather shocked at the accusation. "I'm Monica."  
  
"And she's an angel," added the man mockingly.  
  
"Glad you think so," Lex remarked snidely.  
  
"Are you serious?" Stone asked, interrupting the building fight. "Is she really an angel?"  
  
Most everyone was surprised by such a question, but not the Doctor. "In all my studies and travels, I have found nothing that would indicate the existence of angels. I do, however, postulate that--" The time lord found himself cut short by a soft light of indeterminate origin building up around Monica.  
  
"I am an angel sent by God to help provide guidance," Monica simple stated while the others took in her heavenly appearance. Stone felt his breath catch in his throat as he finally caught a glimpse of what he thought he would always be denied while the man next to him snarled in anger and frustration. Chloe's pen and notepad fell from her nerveless fingers as she just stared. Leela had quickly fallen to her knees and was about to begin worshipping when Monica motioned for her to not do so. Lex stepped back, bumping into the Doctor, who was also stunned and flabbergasted by something both of them had believed never existed in the fist place but at that moment had all their doubts removed.  
  
Clark, being raised with a strong appreciation for the Bible and for what it stood for, was the first to find his voice again. "Why are you here? Who are you here to provide guidance for?"  
  
---  
  
Kenny opened the door to the coffee shop, careful to keep the bell on the door from ringing. He had heard and seen enough as far as he was concerned and had quietly and discretely slipped out of his seat as only a child could.  
  
"I came here for Kenny," Monica replied as she answered Clark's question.  
  
Kenny, startled, backed away from the exit. Monica was there looking directly in his eyes. But the thing that startled him the most was that Monica hadn't moved. She had been across the café but was now suddenly in the doorway blocking his escape.  
  
"How did she move like that?" Lana asked in amazement to no one in particular.  
  
"I don't know," Clark answered, "but it was faster than I could see."  
  
Monica ignored the comments of those around her and focused her attention on the Immortal before her. "You have been through a lot, Kenny, but God has always been there for you. God has always loved you."  
  
"Stop it! Stop it!" Kenny shouted as he backpedaled away from the angel.  
  
"Kenny, you have a chance here," she said with genuine concern in her voice. "You can still make a change in your life and--"  
  
"And what?" demanded Kenny. "If anyone put me in the place I am today, it was God! So God can't really blame me for anything! I didn't ask to be Immortal! I didn't ask to be stuck in this youthful body with bigger, stronger people hunting me for as long as I live!"  
  
Monica sighed in sympathy. "Kenny, you--"  
  
"Oh, leave the boy alone, little angel," responded Stone's strange companion, who was now walking up to the youthful-looking Immortal from behind. "Kenny knows that everything is up to him if he wants to survive in this world God has put him into."  
  
The light around Monica faded but she continued walking up to Kenny until she was just five feet away. "Kenny has an opportunity here that you rejected long ago."  
  
"Excuse me," Lex Luthor said, having regained his composer. "If he isn't my father, and he does look and sound like him even if this guy here is more scruffy looking, then who is he exactly?"  
  
The man that resembled Lionel Luthor chuckled to himself as he turned to regard the bald-headed young man with a dangerous grin. "I've gone by many names on this world as well as others. The title you would best know me as would be the Devil."  
  
Everyone looked at him in disbelief, until Ezekiel simply nodded in confirmation.  
  
The Doctor shook his head. "Now I've actually met more than a few beings that have used that designation," interjected the Doctor. "And all of them have turned out to be less than they claimed to be."  
  
"Shall I show my true self like Monica has?" suggested the Devil mockingly.  
  
"No!" Monica quickly said with authority. While revealing the true aspect of herself was soothing and enlightening to people, if people were to see the true side of the Devil they would be mentally and spiritually scarred possibly forever. If they were able to keep their sanity.  
  
The Devil smirked at those around him. "Some people are just no fun."  
  
"Don't you have someplace to go?" Ezekiel suggested in irritation.  
  
"Oh, I'm just sticking around to keep an eye on my investments. You know how I don't like them to get away from me, Stone." The Devil looked around the room at the various people there. Everyone's eyes were on him and he was loving the attention. "Now, Kenny, I think you have a decision to make. You can choose the light side," he said as he gestured with his thumb toward Monica who was looking very Human again. "Or you can choose the dark side."  
  
"There's more to it than that," began Monica.  
  
"But that's basically it in a nutshell," finished the Devil.  
  
Kenny stood there frozen like a deer staring into a pair of headlights that was bearing down on him. Only it was more than one pair of headlights and they all seemed on a collision course with him. "What if I don't make a choice?" Kenny finally said in a barely audible voice.  
  
The Devil showed a toothy smile. "Then I still win."  
  
"What! That's not fair!" Kenny called out as he stepped to the side away from the two celestial beings and into an empty booth.  
  
Monica stopped moving closer to keep from spooking the 'boy'. "Unfortunately, he is right."  
  
"Yep, that's just the way it is," commented the Devil. "I didn't make the system, I just use it to my advantage."  
  
"But he and all his demons will still lose in the end." Monica felt the Devil staring daggers at her as she talked to the others in the café. "The only reason he does what he does is because he wants to hurt God the only way he can. By leading people away from God, he separates them because God cannot be connected to sin. Fortunately, God's son paid the price to reunite people with God. All people have to do is accept the price that was paid for them. That's all you have to do, too, Kenny."  
  
Kenny's mind began spinning and his eyes wandered around the room.  
  
---  
  
Lex shook his head while running his fingers along the side of the TARDIS. He had walked to the back of the small diner in hopes of gaining some perspective on everything that he'd just seen. "My father looks just like the Devil. Why am I not surprised?"  
  
Clark regarded his friend for a second. "Lex, he just resembles your father, that doesn't make him your father."  
  
"Clark, he even talks like and acts like my father."  
  
"Excuse me," interrupted Ezekiel. "But your name is Clark and your bald friend is Lex." Stone shook his head. "Have your friends nicknamed you after Superman and Luthor yet?" Ezekiel commented as he tried to ease some of the tension.  
  
"Superman?" Clark queried. "Why would anyone call me that?"  
  
"And how did you know that my last name was Luthor?"  
  
"Your name is Lex Luthor? You got to be kidding?" Seeing that they didn't understand, he began to explain. "Well, if I remember the comic books I read when I was a kid correctly, Lex Luthor was the number one bad guy in the world. And that he always fought against Superman in and around Metropolis."  
  
"Other than similar names I don't see any correlation," Chloe pointed out as she moved to stand next to Clark now that Lana had vacated that position.  
  
"Besides, I moved out of Metropolis and I'm currently residing in Smallville," Lex added.  
  
Ezekiel took a moment to study the three of them. When he finally realized that they were serious, he took a deep breath. "Okay, Clark, you wouldn't happen to have a red and blue costume with a big S on the front, would you?"  
  
"No."  
  
A look of relief went over Ezekiel. "Well, then I guess I don't have to worry about you being able to bounce bullets off your chest, be super- strong or fly," he jested.  
  
Chloe and Lex turned to Clark who was staring at Ezekiel in surprise. When he noticed the others staring at him, he just shrugged. "I haven't flown yet. Well, I did wake up to myself floating a foot off my bed one morning, but nothing since."  
  
Seeing that Clark was serious, Stone decided that he had had more than enough. "Ah, I think that I'll go check on the others."  
  
As they watched Ezekiel go to the others, Chloe, Lex and Clark looked at each other in confusion and thought about the strange conversation that they had just had.  
  
"Where does he fit into all this?" Chloe inquired. "I mean, we have a boy that doesn't age, and an angel and someone who claims to be the Devil himself. Where does Ezekiel fit into all this?"  
  
"You have a point," agreed Clark. "He was sitting with them so there must be some reason for the association."  
  
"Guilt by association, Clark? I thought you were against that kind of mentality," teased Lex.  
  
"That's not what I meant," Clark said, taking the taunt in good humor. "I'm just saying that there may be more to him than meets the eye."  
  
"Hmm, just like you, huh?" joked Chloe.  
  
"Careful, or you just might get ticked at super-speed," warned Clark.  
  
"Super-speed?" Lex said, as if he had heard it for the first time.  
  
"Yeah, I thought we went over most of that on the TARDIS."  
  
"Most of that?" chided Chloe. "Are you still keeping something from us?" she asked as she brought her fists up in a fighting position.  
  
"No." Clark held up his hands in mock defense. "We just got side-tracked in the TARDIS once Chloe got her hands on that diary of the Doctor's. He was miffed about that."  
  
"You can't exactly blame me for that," the young woman said. "It was the reporter in me. Besides how could he just leave something with the words 500-Year Diary on it laying about and not expect someone to be curious enough to read it? Besides, there was some pretty incredible stuff in there" She saw the amusement in Clark's eyes and knew she had to change the subject or say something she didn't have enough courage yet to say to him. To her left, Lex looked deep in though so she opted for misdirection. "What are thinking about now, Lex?"  
  
"Hmm? Well, the super-speed comment. It kind of got me to thinking about a few things. With the super-strength and everything else people could consider you a 'superman.'"  
  
"I hope not," Clark said. "I've always wanted everybody to think of me just like everyone else. You know, so I could belong."  
  
Chloe bit her lip in thought for a moment. "I don't think that's where Lex was going with that thought, Clark."  
  
"Then what do you mean?"  
  
The bald-man turned to regard the TARDIS again but spoke to his companions. "That man Ezekiel, he knew my name and he put it in reference to somebody called--"  
  
"'Superman,'" finished Chloe.  
  
"And you think that refers to me?" The teenage Kryptonian shook his head. "I really don't see myself ever using such a corny name."  
  
Chloe nodded in agreement. "Besides, Lex, this is a parallel universe. You can't expect references in this universe to line up with those in our own."  
  
"Yes," Luthor admitted. "But they are very similar. Even to the same language and culture. And the Doctor warned us that the myths in one world may, to an extent, be reality in another and vice versa."  
  
"So you are saying I could be this 'Superman' character one day?"  
  
"Worse," stated Lex. "Ezekiel also said that you and I would be enemies. If what he is saying is true, then you and I are destined to fight against each other in the future." He used a handkerchief to dust off one of the grooves of the TARDIS. "Besides, if I am destined to be the worst villain in the world it only makes sense that my dad looks just like the Devil himself."  
  
The three young people stood there in silence as they thought about the ramifications of everything that had just been said.  
  
---  
  
The two angels, one fallen and the other still holy, stood silently staring at each other on either side of Kenny. Kenny, for his part, just sat there as he thought through his long life and the things the two angels had said to him. Just a little ways away, the Doctor sipped at a cup of tea he had poured for himself as he sat watching the now silent drama before him and contemplated the reality of the situation. Lana sat on the floor with Leela and K-9. The young farm girl listened in wonder to Leela telling of her past adventurers with the Doctor while she awkwardly petted K-9, who seemed to like the attention.  
  
The bell of the small diner rang as an older man hurried in and past everyone. "Pardon me!" exclaimed the man as his eyes darted around the place. "I just need a phone. My cell phone isn't working and--ah!" he exclaimed as his eyes fell upon the TARDIS.  
  
"I'm afraid that that won't work for what you are attempting to use it for," said the Doctor from where he was sitting. He wasn't worried about anyone getting inside since he had locked it, but he still didn't particularly like the idea of someone messing around with the outside of the TARDIS. It was already annoying and slightly worried that Luthor seemed to have taken an interest in it.  
  
"There's a phone here," called Lana who had reached over the counter and set a telephone down for the newcomer.  
  
"Thanks," as he turned away from the rather odd looking antique British phone booth. As he reached for the phone he startled in recognition. "Kenny?"  
  
Kenny, the one in question, looked up in surprise. He wasn't used to people recognizing him. As a matter of fact, he spent a great deal of his time traveling just so that wouldn't happen. "Do I know you?"  
  
"Ahhh, no. No, I mistook you for someone else," replied the man as he hurried quickly for the door. Unfortunately, someone was already there blocking his exit.  
  
The Devil smiled in the man's face. "That's not exactly true, now, is it, Mr. Kolchak. I believe you wrote a ten-page paper about how Kenny had been able to survive as long as he has. As a matter of fact the people that you work for have only known of Kenny's existence for the last four hundred years but you theorized that he had lived twice that long." The fallen angel smiled at Carl's look of surprise. "You'll be happy to know that Kenny will be nine hundred in eleven more years."  
  
"He will?" asked the old newshound. "I mean, I have no idea what you are talking about." Kolchak moved around the man before him and made another move for the door only to find Kenny there blocking his way.  
  
"How do you know about me?" demanded the young looking boy.  
  
Carl didn't falter now. His Watcher training kicked in and he denied everything. "I already said I didn't know you."  
  
Kenny had his machete out before Carl could even blink. "Why don't I believe you?"  
  
"Kenny," Monica called out. "You really should think about this. You don't want to do something you'll regret."  
  
"Bah, don't listen to her, Kenny," snarled the Devil. "You know what you have to do when something threatens your survival."  
  
Carl backed away from his diminutive threat with his hands held up. "Listen, I don't know what the problem is here but I really am not a threat to you." Watchers, as a rule, didn't carry weapons, which was a rule that Carl was regretting at the moment.  
  
A figure quickly put himself between Carl and Kenny. "Kenny, put the weapon away, now," insisted Ezekiel.  
  
Kenny frowned. He'd had more revelation and interaction with people in the last hour than he had had in over five hundred years. It made him feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. And Kenny didn't like feeling vulnerable. "I want to know how he knows me and I want to know now!" He tightened his grip on his weapon and did a quick cut through the air so that everyone would now that he was both serious and capable.  
  
Monica's voice reached out again. "Kenny, he belongs to a long line of historians that call themselves the Watchers. They secretly follow and record the lives of Immortals like yourselves to preserve it in writing so that future generations can know all that your kind did and went through as they seek the prize."  
  
"And what is the prize?" Kenny asked. "What is it that the final winner of all these battles supposed to get to justify all these long years of suffering? What?"  
  
"I don't know," Monica simple said. "That has not yet been revealed to me."  
  
Kenny turned his attention back to the Watcher before him. "So you've been following me?"  
  
Carl was confused. He had no idea what was going on but he knew his cover was blown. "Me? I'm an old man. My superiors wouldn't place somebody like me on someone who ducks and covers as much as you do. You are always on the move."  
  
Kenny's eyes darted out to the windows of the diner. "Then who is following me?"  
  
"No one at the moment, Kenny," Monica revealed. "You lost your Watcher seven days ago in the fish market after you picked that business man's wallet and ran."  
  
"You knew about that?"  
  
"God knows everything, Kenny."  
  
"Wish I had known that that guy had had so little cash on him. I wouldn't have bothered to steal his wallet then." He finally relaxed his grip on his machete and looked over at Monica again. "Why are you trying so hard to save me anyway?"  
  
"Because you can be saved," she simply replied with a warm smile.  
  
"Um, excuse me," interrupted Ezekiel. "I know it's a little, uh, late, but can you do something for me, too?"  
  
The Devil laughed loud and boisterously for a moment before gently hitting Stone in the shoulder. "Stone, you know your warranty has already expired. It expired the same time you did," he pointed out with merriment in his voice.  
  
Stone's jaw clenched, but his eyes remained fixed on Monica's imploring her.  
  
"Wait a minute," came a voice from the back of the diner. Lex and the others made their way up to all the activity. "Are you saying that Ezekiel is dead?"  
  
"Yep," nodded the Devil. "Dead as a doornail but currently running around with you living, breathing types to do a few personal errands for me."  
  
"You're dead?" Kenny asked in amazement, temporarily forgetting his own situation.  
  
"And has been a resident in Hell for years," continued the Devil. "And since that is his lot, he can not gain access to heaven."  
  
"True," agree Monica. "That is until he was let out of Hell."  
  
"What?!?" cried the Devil.  
  
"You let him out and put him among the living again," explained Monica. "That makes Ezekiel Stone open to the possibility of redemption."  
  
"What's going on here?" Carl asked as the Devil fumed.  
  
Lana quietly sat the Watcher on one of the barstools and poured him a cup of coffee. "Don't interrupt when people are talking. It's rude."  
  
The Devil glared at Monica. "You, one little angel, expect to best me out of two souls? I don't think so!"  
  
Monica shook her head. "I told you before. I'm here for Kenny."  
  
"But what about me?" asked Ezekiel. "You just said I had a chance at Heaven. Am I supposed to work this all out myself? With him against me?"  
  
"For this kind of situation you do need a heavenly angel to help you work things through. But I am unable to help you at this time because I am assigned to Kenny." The Devil started to laugh but Monica continued. "There has been an angel assigned to you, however, and I believe he has just arrived."  
  
The bell on the door rang out again as two more people entered. One was a gruff looking man with a graying beard wearing a baseball cap who eyed everyone in the place, especially Kenny who was taking the moment to slide his machete back into his jacket. The second man looked a little friendlier. He wore a brown leather jacket, blue jeans and a warm smile.  
  
"Hello everyone. My name is Jonathan and my friend here is Mark Gordon. I'm looking for an Ezekiel Stone."  
  
A stunned silence filled the small café until Ezekiel slowly raised his hand.  
  
"Don't think it's that easy," chuckled the Devil, as he walked over to Stone and lowered the deceased detective's upraised arm. With eyes of fire, he regarded the new angel. "I don't give up what is mine easily, Jonathan. I won't just let you take him from me. You or your mortal sidekick."  
  
Mark looked a little angry and was about to retort but Jonathan "No, I don't expect you will," commented Jonathan. "And I will be working solo this time. Mark has an assignment of his own."  
  
The aforementioned Mark looked at his friend in surprise. "I do? The 'boss' has an assignment for me?"  
  
"Don't be so surprised," said the amused angel. "All you have to do is spend some time with one of the people here and do some listening and talking."  
  
"And everybody knows why we are here?" asked in surprise.  
  
"Yes, Monica let them in on all that. But don't worry," Jonathan said as he pointed up. "God said it was okay."  
  
"Alright then." Gordon rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. "Who is the lucky guy," he said as he looked around the room. "Or lady," he amended after seeing a few of the opposite gender in the room.  
  
Monica stepped forward. "Mark, it's been a while but you look good."  
  
"Heh! A few more gray hairs but none the worse for wear."  
  
"Good," said the female angel. "Now, I'd like you to meet someone who has recently come from far away." She lead him past the Devil and the Doctor, both of whom seemed very interested in what she was doing. "Mark, I'd like you to meet Lex. Lex, this is Mark. God would like you to spend some time with Mark, Lex."  
  
Lex didn't seem too happy with the deal. "You're kidding, right? I thought we were brought here to fight of some mind-controlling cyborgs; not for some religious moments to straighten out my life."  
  
"Lex," Clark began.  
  
"Clark, you may have been raised in a good God-loving family that took you to church every Sunday but I was raised differently. My father showed me the weakness that--" The words caught in his throat as his eyes saw the Devil just two booths away smiling broadly at him.  
  
"On the other hand," Lex began again with a little tremble mustered with determination in his voice, "maybe I should give that old-time religion a shot."  
  
"That's the spirit!" Mark grabbed hold of Lex's hand and began pumping it. "And just call me Mark. Or Mr. Gordon, if you like."  
  
"Uh, yeah. I'm just Lex. Lex Luthor."  
  
"What? Like the super-villain that always fights Superman in the comic books?"  
  
Lex grimaced. "Exactly."  
  
Carl Kolchak cleared his voice. "Uh, I really don't know what's all going on here, but is it all right if I use the phone now?"  
  
*****  
  
NEW CHARACTERS  
  
LAW & ORDER (1990-present) Detective Leonard 'Lennie' Briscoe - (Jerry Orbach)  
  
21 JUMP STREET (1987-1992) Doug Penhall - (Peter DeLuise) Joey Penhall - (Michel DeLuise)  
  
HIGHWAY TO HEAVEN (1984-1989) Jonathan Smith - (Michel Landon) Mark Gordon - (Victor French)  
  
*****  
  
Author's Note -  
  
Sorry it's taken me so long to do all this. Life has been hectic. My sister has been in the hospital a lot lately. She has a lot of medical problems including a tumor pressing on her brain. I've also been looking for a new job. And to top it all off I'm getting married today! October 4, 2002. I just thought I'd take a little time out of my hectic schedule to post what I have and I will try not to make you all wait so long for future postings. You will also be happy to know that my to-be-bride like to encourage my writing so there won't be any problems there. I will also endeavor to not make everything so complex and compiled. 


	4. chapter 4

Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod groaned as his head began clearing from whatever had happened to him. The last thing he clearly remembered was getting into his Mustang, turning the key and then everything blowing up in his face. Then the next thing he knew there were these weird looking people standing over him and one of them stabbed him.  
  
The four hundred-year-old Immortal went to touch his aching head and realized something important: he was being restrained.  
  
He immediately stopped moving and took a few breaths. Listening carefully, he could detect movement near him from all areas around him. Discretely, he peered out the slits of his eyes and waited for them to adjust to the light of the room.  
  
Off to the side of him, Duncan saw other people laying down on desks and makeshift cots in a neat line of about a dozen. These horizontal people all seemed awake because their eyes were wide open but unblinking. Their skin had a horrible grayish-color to it with cable-like veins that were horribly visible in areas. At first he thought they might be dead, but then he noticed that they were breathing.  
  
When he could see more clearly, he saw that the room he was in was in the midst of a transformation. A bulky man in strange black clothing-the same clothing that his earlier attackers had worn-was wheeling in a Coke machine that had been partially gutted and stuffed with other mechanical parts. Another man in black was unloading a cart of plumbing tools, light bulbs, rubber gloves and various other miscellaneous items onto a white platform that seemed to absorb anything placed there. A cable connected to the white platform led to a large black box. Another cable left the black box and went to another white platform that hummed as it lit up briefly and to Duncan's surprise a small device formed there.  
  
The device was kicked up by a heavyset older woman-also dressed in black- who also had a red beam coming from where her left eye should have been. The woman slowly made her way over next to where Duncan lay but turned to the Hispanic man that lay next to him.  
  
Duncan, continuing to act unconscious, squinted through his eyelids as he watched the large woman lower the device into the Hispanic man's eye until it sunk in and the entire eye was covered. And when the woman stepped away the Immortal was able to see that the man had a red light coming out of the device in the exact same way that the woman had.  
  
Unfortunately, Duncan's awareness did not go undetected. The heavyset woman now stared down at him with one normal eye and one red beam of light. "You have resisted assimilation. Your biological structure is Human but your regenerative abilities are similar to those of Species 8472. Your uniqueness and that of Species 8472 will be added to the collective. Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated." Having had her say without asking Duncan anything, two long metallic needles came out of her hand and she immediately stabbed MacLeod in his chest.  
  
Duncan spent the next minute screaming until oblivion claimed him as metallic veins spread throughout his body.  
  
*****  
  
THE SPACE NEEDLE "It's just like it was before the Eugenics War. Still standing tall." Guinin twirled around in her purple El-Aurian dress as she took in the near- twilight landscape. She laughed out loud at the looks her comrades were giving her. "What?"  
  
"Do you realize how ridiculous you look?" Q stood there in his Starfleet admiral's uniform tapping his foot.  
  
Guinan's glare stilled the Q from any other comments. The Starfleet team and the Babylon Five team both felt the awkward tension.  
  
Garak tilted his head to the left and the right as if checking out his surroundings. "No sign of Borg as far as I can see," he said as a means of levity and to bring everyone's attention back to the subject at hand.  
  
"Yes, now, Q," began Admiral Paris. Q literally flashed the admiral a smile that the admiral found unsettling but knew he had to continue even if it meant facing the unpredictability of Q. "What about the Doctor and the team he was recruiting?"  
  
"What about them? I'm a Q, not a travel agent."  
  
In the background, Scotty guffawed in amusement. Still the admiral was not amused. "I think it would be better if we concentrated our efforts as a larger group to be more effective."  
  
Q held up his hand in mock disdain. "I am not the responsible for the Time Lord. He is an independent agent and that is why he is allowed to do everything that he does," Q explained in exaggerated frustration. "I thought you'd know all this since you were there when it was all set up."  
  
Admiral Owen Paris flustered a bit. His son, Tom, stepped up to him but the admiral waved him back. The admiral looked over to the mysterious Guinan but she was keeping herself distracted pointing out the local sites to the Cardassian that had been brought along. "Q, the Doctor seems to have a habit of just bungling about."  
  
Q shook his head. "That is just so typical of Starfleet of your time. You make great praise for the former groundbreakers of yesterday like Archer and Kirk but there is no way that someone of that spirit would be allowed to pass through your precious academy now. But I can see why someone of your limited intelligence would think that way."  
  
"Q, get to the point," Guinan said, sparing some of her attention to the admiral and Q.  
  
"The point is," Q stated, "that I've done some looking into the good Doctor's background and have found him to have made very good practical use of his 'bungling.' Mostly because he wasn't hampered by the almighty rules and regulations of Starfleet."  
  
An immediate argument built up between Q and Admiral Paris with Tom Paris trying to act as mediator. The other two teams looked at each other for a few minutes wondering what they should do. Guinan was of little help since she dancing in water fountain, humming a tune.  
  
"Um, hello there. I'm Scotty," stated an older portly man on the Starfleet side with gray hair and mustache. "You know," said Montgomery Scott to one of the people on the other side, "You bear a remarkable resemblance to a old friend of mine. Pavel Chekov was his name. Why the last time I saw him, he was going to-"  
  
"That's all charming, I'm sure," Bester replied coldly. "But I think it is of much greater importance for you to share the information that you have on this inter-dimensional invasion force that we are here for." Bester had changed into his old Psi Corps uniform, which he had done for his own comfort as well as the discomfort of those he had come with. "Other than that, I really don't think we have all that much to talk about, old man. Especially reminiscing through your glory days."  
  
"What's your name?" Guinan was suddenly at Bester's side. Surprisingly, her El-Aurian clothing was not showing any signs of water from her traipsing through the fountain.  
  
Alfred Bester was surprised at the sudden change in the woman's demeanor and actually found it intimidating. "Bester."  
  
"You're a telepath, aren't you?"  
  
Bester found her suddenly more intimidating and raised his mental shields. "Yes."  
  
"Read my mind." It was not a request or even a challenge. It was a command. A command that Bester couldn't resist. And what he found in her mind caused the blood to drain from his face and he quickly backed up a few steps from her.  
  
"Let me be frank, Mr. Bester." Guinan put on her best smile. "I don't like rude people. I dislike them almost as much as I dislike the Borg. And trust me, you don't want me disliking you." She was still smiling but she was showing all her teeth.  
  
Bester was just getting his spirit back but before he could say anything to get himself in any more trouble or insult anyone else, Galen stepped forward and placed a hand on the arrogant telepath's shoulder and silenced him.  
  
The robed figure of Lennier came forward and bowed lowly to Guinan and the members of Starfleet. "Pardon our comrade. He is unaccustomed to being polite to others. My name is Lennier."  
  
Greetings were exchanged between the two groups. Dureena Nafeel attempted to flirt with Dr. Bashir but Galen insisted that his apprentice maintain her focus for the duration of their time in this parallel universe. Bester sulked quietly to the side but listened intently as he mental gauged his 'allies.' Lennier and Garak seemed to take a liking to each other. Guinan soothed Scotty's feeling over quickly and the old Scot was soon back to his old self and discussing things with Galen. Q had even had enough of Owen Paris and his son and left in a flash.  
  
"Shouldn't we be out searching for these Borg creatures?" pointed out Bester. "Not that I am against chummy little chats in the evening," he said looking quickly over at Guinan. "I just think that it would be nice to get this all over with."  
  
Galen nodded. "But now that we have talked I know what we are looking for." The techno-mage raised both of his arms and ten white doves flew out of each of his sleeves into the dusk sky.  
  
"The birds are going to find the Borg for us?" asked Julian.  
  
"Oh, you'd be surprised what these birds could find," answered Galen.  
  
"And I'd be even more surprised if he actually used real birds," commented Dureena.  
  
*****  
  
ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER  
  
Dana had been busy since Mulder had left ten minutes previous. The first thing that she had had done was have Sheriff Walker and some volunteers barricade the fire doors so that they had something against them and their attackers. While this did much to console a number of people in the west lobby of the convention center, Scully wasn't counting on it for protection and was having everyone who wasn't willing to fight the Borg to leave immediately.  
  
After co-ordinating her efforts with Lee Stetson, they both agreed that the Borg had to be held back until military forces could take over. Meanwhile, they also had to send groups of people to other parts of the massive convention center to evacuate the rest of the people who were most likely already having their seminars if they hadn't already been attacked too. Byers had pulled a fire alarm as a means of evacuating the building but they had already been disconnected and made useless.  
  
Sheriff Walker and his group of helpers were heading up the first line of defence in case the Borg decided to attack again. A few more people who had know idea what was going on had trickled in and agreed to help. Some, to Scully and Walker's amazement even had weapons. Martin Riggs had a .45 in a shoulder harness as well as a smaller ankle holster which he shared with his partner, Roger Murtaugh. The bigger armory came from 'Billy' Rosewood at the insistence of his friend, Axel Foley. Rosewood had a large briefcase loaded with various types of handguns as well as three hand grenades. Scully swore to herself that if she survived all this that Rosewood was going to have to answer a lot of question even if the fast-talking Foley insisted that his friend was harmless.  
  
She had been rather disappointed that Remington Steele and his wife had disappeared. Remington had put up a good fight against the Borg and had even been able to held a number of other people get away from their clutches. One thing that really bothered her and she really wanted to ask him about was the sword he had used. Of all things to fight with, why a sword? And could Remington possible have anything to do with what Mulder was speculating about earlier - a secret organization of people all over the world that went sneaking around trying to decapitate each other? Dana shook her head. Having started to consider ideas like that, she knew that she had been Mulder's partner too long.  
  
Lee Stetson's wife, Amanda was helping Tess direct much of the traffic on the lobby. Mostly she helped get people to help carry some of those who had been hurt escaping the attack or those that were still recovering from being stunned. Byers helped in an automated fashion, his grief and worry still very evident in his eyes. The Lone Gunmen member had insisted on staying while Frohike went with Mulder to take care of Langly. He was not alone though. A friend of his, Murray 'Boz' Bozinsky, a famous and yet very geeky scientist as well as a member of the Riptide Detective Agency, was helping to keep an eye on Frohike.  
  
Once she had a minute, Scully tried to focus on the map of the convention center that one of the security guards had been able to provide her with.  
  
"You!" a female voice demanded from behind her.  
  
Scully sighed in exasperation. "What now?"  
  
A tall brunette woman walked up arrogantly past everyone and right up to her. "I'm looking for a man named Jarod. He was posing as a deputy of Sheriff Barney Fife but he is actually a very dangerous man and I've been sent to apprehend him. According to some of the people here, your partner left with him a few minutes ago. Where did they go?" she demanded.  
  
"Look, I don't have time for this. We have a very dangerous situation here that-"  
  
"I don't care about your situation. I just-"  
  
"Pardon my friend's lack of courtesy," stated a man with a warm smile behind the insistent brunette. "My name in Sydney, this fellow back here is Broots and this charming woman is Miss Parker. Anything that you could tell us would be greatly appreciated. Jarod has had us chasing him for quite some time."  
  
"All I know is that my partner, Mulder took a group of people with him to-"  
  
A cry of fear built up from some of the remaining people fleeing the nearby main entrance. The entrance had eight glass doors that people had been keeping open as they exit. Now through the glass, people on the inside could see five Borg drones walking out from one of the side delivery doors and through the decorative flowers and bushes towards the glass doors. People ran through even faster, some falling down and being walked over.  
  
The five drones ignored the people racing by them. Each carried a two and a half foot metal pole. Each placed their pole on the sidewalk in front of the glass doors. Each turned their device on at the same time which caused a blue transparent energy field to rise up against the building.  
  
The people hoping to flee the building and in to the night were suddenly bouncing off the blue field before them. The five Borg drones extended the tubules in their arms and stepped through the energy field with no problems. A blond woman, Suzanne Anderson, who had been talking to Dana just a few minutes prior had fallen down, stared up in terror at one of the drones standing over her. Her shrill scream filled the room. When it was suddenly cut off, people began running the other way.  
  
"Walker!" Scully shouted. "We need to get those people away from those things now!"  
  
Walker, for his part, already had his people moving forward.  
  
"What's going on here?" demanded Miss Parker.  
  
"All the things that you weren't interested in earlier!" snapped Dana. "Tess, I need a way out of here for all these people!"  
  
*****  
  
The dim light in the refrigerator, led Methos to stick his head further back past different containers of food as he continued his search. "Please, MacLeod, please don't tell me that you don't have anything good left in here. What were you thinking?" The questions that Methos or sometimes known as Adam Pierson were spouting off were not actually for anyone since he was actually alone but since it was MacLeod's fridge that he was raiding, any and all frustrating comments were directed toward the absent Scot.  
  
Reluctantly accepting defeat, Methos, the oldest known living Immortal on Earth settled on the Fosters beer that he had found to go with his pizza. "You'd think that someone raised in Europe would keep a selection of European beers around instead of this Australian stuff," he commented to himself as he took a swallow.  
  
Methos liked MacLeod. Duncan is the closest thing he has had as a friend or possibly a brother in millennia. Which is also why the five thousand year old man made surprise visits into MacLeod's home. To keep him on his toe and keep his guard up. Being an Immortal was tough and if you were to survive very long you had to be tougher. So Methos had taken it upon himself to heighten Duncan's senses and make him more weary with surprise break-ins and impromptu raids on his food supply. Besides, he thought it was fun.  
  
With the open beer in one hand and plate of three slices of cold pepperoni pizza in the other, Methos closed the door to the fridge with a foot. And saw a man dressed sharply in white.  
  
"Hello Methos. It's been a long time."  
  
"Gaahhh!" Methos dropped the plate of food and the can of beer as he quickly backed away until his back hit the brick wall.  
  
"Is that anyway to greet an old friend?"  
  
The Immortal quickly regained his composure. "You did that on purpose!" he accused. "You startled the living wits out of me on purpose!"  
  
"Do onto others as you would have them do onto you. Haven't you played tricks like that on your friend Duncan a lot lately?"  
  
Methos, at one time known as Death, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, glowered at the man in white whose name was Andrew, the angel of death. "That was different," he stated. Andrew just smiled which caused Methos to laugh. "Fine be that way, but at least help me clean this mess up or Duncan will have a fit."  
  
Andrew grabbed a damp dishrag nearby and complied with a smile. "So how have you been?"  
  
"As if you wouldn't already know," snorted the ancient Immortal. "Life goes on," he stated as he tossed the ruined pieces of pizza in the kitchen trashcan. "Life is always going on for me."  
  
"And is that a problem?" asked the angel.  
  
Methos washed his hands of some pizza sauce while his unexpected guest wiped up the marks the pizza had made on the floor along with the spilt beer. "Not really. The only time I ever have any real problems is when you decide to show up. Because when you do I know that shortly after your arrival there is going to be some very dangerous Immortal that is going to show up and insist on challenging me." Methos looked at the angel he had known for thousands of years daring him to contradict him. "All you are doing is waiting around to see if I am going to lose my head. Admit it."  
  
Andrew looked hurt. "I hope you think that my visits are more than just that."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," admitted Methos as he reached back into the refrigerator for another of Duncan's beers. "There is the whole repentance angle, too. It's just that at my age I-"  
  
The beer can feel out of his hands as the old Immortal felt the quickening energy inside of him rise up at the approach of another of his kind. He looked imploringly at Andrew. "Please tell me that that is Duncan approaching."  
  
The angel of Death gently shook his head.  
  
Without anymore hesitation, Methos ran over to the couch where his jacket lay. Even more importantly, where his sword lay within.  
  
*****  
  
LEATHAL WEAPON (1987) Detective Martin Riggs - (Mel Gibson) Detective Roger Murtaugh - (Danny Glover)  
  
BEVERLY HILLS COP (1984) Detective Axel Foley - (Eddie Murphy) Detective William 'Billy' Rosewood - (Judge Reinhold)  
  
RIPTIDE (1984-1986) Murray 'Boz' Bozinsky - (Thom Bray)  
  
POLICE WOMAN (1974-1978) Suzanne 'Pepper' Anderson - (Angie Dickinson)  
  
*****  
  
Author's note: In the Babylon 5 spin off, Crusade, Dureena Nafeel was pickpocket and all around thief before joining the others in trying to find a cure for the Drakh Plague that almost totally wiped out her people. She also continued to ask to become Galen's apprentice. Galen had not agreed to do this by the end of the series, but I figured it was only inevitable so I've got her just starting that part of her life as this story begins.  
  
I will be moving at the end of this month from Minneapolis, Minnesota to Vancouver, Washington which is just north of Portland, Oregon. And this is the reason that this chapter is so short compared to my other chapters. So please include me in your prayers for travelling mercies and please keep sending reviews. Thank you, everyone.  
  
Charlie 


	5. chapter 5

ANTHONY'S SEATTLE, WA "I'll have the Burnt Chicken Alfredo."  
  
"What type of dressing do you want with the salad that comes with your meal?"  
  
He made his selection and the waiter soon left. Joe Dawson had gray hair and a beard to match. He looked tired but sharply dressed. Joe was happy with his lot in life. Vietnam had taken both of his legs when he was just a young man, but he had also found his place and purpose with the Watchers, a secret organization of historians.  
  
Taking a drink of his water, he risked a good look at his subject. Connor MacLeod laughed playfully with an attractive blond woman at the next table. Connor's most recent Watcher had had two abscessed molars in need of immediate attention. Joe, preferring occasional time in the field, volunteered to help keep track of the rascally Immortal for a few days. Considering Connor's reputation, it was quite a treat for Dawson. The fact that Connor was a fellow Scottish clansman with Joe's friend, Duncan, added interest.  
  
While Connor and his date traded witty banter over appetizers, Joe answered the cell phone ringing in his inner jacket. "Joe here. Kolchak? What do you.? Duncan? His car? Kenny? Is Duncan all right? Well, where is he then? Were they Hunters? Fine. I'll be there shortly."  
  
Joe was putting the phone back in his jacket pocket when he realized he now had company at his table. Even more to his surprise, it was Connor MacLeod. "Um, can I help you?"  
  
"Cut the act. I've been told all about you people." As Joe shrugged to feign ignorance, the Immortal quickly reached across the table and pushed up Joe's right sleeve, exposing a dark symbol on his wrist. "I know about the tattoo and everything. Now what was all that about Duncan on the phone?"  
  
Joe sighed. He could tell by the look on the other man's face that he wasn't going to let it go. "Duncan told you about the Watchers." Connor didn't bother to answer the rhetorical comment.. Joe realized he should have suspected that Duncan would have told Connor about the Watchers; to warn him about the Hunters, if for no other reason. Joe hoped that the Watchers didn't find out about this. The last time that Joe had informed an Immortal about the existence of the Watchers, the ultra-secret organization had sentenced the handicapped man to death. Joe knew that Connor was a very stubborn man and was not about to back down until he understood the situation. The incredible story Carl Kolchak had just told him left Joe thinking it might just be too much for him alone. "Fine," he said, "I'm leaving now to find out what's going on. You can come along if you want."  
  
Connor nodded. Joe carefully used his cane to stand up.  
  
"You lost your legs," said Connor, stating the obvious.  
  
"Nam," explained Joe as he tapped one of the prosthetic legs.  
  
"You're Joe Dawson," Connor replied in sudden realization.  
  
Joe sighed. "Duncan told you about me, too." He shook his head. "He really wasn't supposed to tell anyone else."  
  
"Well, it makes things easier for you and I. Duncan said you can be trusted."  
  
Joe nodded. "Trusted to help somebody yes; trusted to keep a secret, that's open to debate."  
  
"The way Duncan tells it, you made a good decision by telling him about the Watchers and Hunters. If you hadn't, everyone in your organization would be marked by more than just tattoos if other Immortals had heard of the threat." Before the Vietnam veteran could protest, Connor had pulled out his wallet and paid for Joe's meal, leaving a generous tip. Realizing that it was pointless to argue with the man, Joe nodded in agreement and motioned to the waiter heading toward them with his salad. "I just have to give an excuse to my date. I'll meet you at the door."  
  
*****  
  
NEAR THE SPACE NEEDLE "As you can see, we are practicing our characters' personalities in public as a way of assuring our comfort and familiarity with them. Personally, I think we have our characters down pretty well, but I'm sure you've heard how far some directors will go to make sure their actors won't mess things up. Beginning next month, you should see us opening in a nearby theater." Garak smiled beguilingly to the curious pedestrians stopped to check out the colorfully dressed actors.  
  
"That is unless we lose our funding," Bashir added.  
  
"Please leave the subterfuge to me," Garak whispered out the side of his mouth to the Starfleet doctor. Guinan had asked Garak and Bashir to deal with the growing group of gawkers that crowded around the group as they waited in the park. The colorful apparel of the Starfleet uniforms as well as the obvious alien features of some of them were definitely drawing attention from some of the evening strollers through the area. Garak rose to the occasion. Bashir followed his lead, even though he was rather surprised at the method in which Garak chose to handle the situation.  
  
"So what's the play called?" asked a young male college student.  
  
"Actually the title is still being decided," answered the smooth-talking Cardassian. "I believe the author's working title was 'Star Journeys'. Last week it was being called 'Star Frontiers'. And before that it was called the 'Star Fighter'."  
  
"That stinks," said a nearby teenager. "Why not just call it 'Star Wars'? 'Star Trek' would be even better."  
  
Garak just nodded. "I'll be sure to mention it to the author."  
  
The teenager looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, you should also think about having more aliens. I mean, your makeup is awesome and I really like the reptilian features, but it would add a lot more interest and realism for a futuristic space trekking play to have more than just one or two aliens in it."  
  
Garak nodded. "Humans do tend to overrun everything. But the director decided to work on quality rather than quantity with his aliens."  
  
"Hey, mister," asked a little girl, grabbing Garak's greenish hand. "Is that guy over there the bad guy?"  
  
With a mischievous grin, Garak looked over to where Bester was sulking. "Now if I told you the answer to that, what reason would your parents have to take you to see the play?"  
  
Dureena, professional thief and apprentice technomage, was enjoying a pleasant conversation with Montgomery Scott, or Scotty, as he liked to be called. The retired Starfleet engineer was giving a rendition of his previous trips back in time to Earth's twentieth century. Nearby, Lennier listened as he meditated, contemplating their current circumstances..  
  
"Ah, here we go." Galen held out his left arm; one of the doves he had sent out earlier returned to him. "Now let us see where these cybernetic creatures are. It will just take a moment," he assured those nearby.  
  
Tom Paris pointed to a large building southeast of them. "Unless my tri- corder is wrong, I believe we will find them in there." Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw his father look at him with a hint of pride. "I know that some of the earlier teams had quite a bit of difficulty locating the Borg due to building structures around them, but we don't seem to have that problem in this century."  
  
A look of mild embarrassment crossed Galen's face. His apprentice, Dureena, gave him a sharp grin. "Just because these people don't have the same technology as you does not mean that they aren't as capable at some things," she whispered to him, using her limited skill as a technomage to convey her words directly to her teacher's ears.  
  
"True," agreed the technomage. "Young man," he said, regarding the younger Paris. "Might I examine that piece of equipment you have? I would like to see how it differs from my own."  
  
Tom looked at his father, who nodded his ascent. "Sure. Here," he said, holding out the device.  
  
Galen merely looked down at the dove on his arm. In obedience, the white bird took off in a quick flurry of feathers and made to land on the tri- corder in Tom's hand. Only, instead of landing on the device, the avian creature seemed to dissolve into it in a shower of light particles.  
  
"Uh," began Tom. "That's not exactly what I meant." But before he could ask the enigmatic robed man any further questions, the dove regained its form, flying out of the tri-corder and onto Galen's outstretched arm.  
  
"You haven't shown me that one yet," commented Dureena, as she came closer to examine the white bird.  
  
"There are many things that I have yet to teach you, Dureena. Your years as an apprentice will be many. Each day many more new discoveries in the secrets of the technomages will be yours to learn." He turned to examine the dove which seemed to have found something interesting to peck at on his sleeve. "This tri-corder is an interesting device, young Tom. A little primitive for my taste, but the information that you have gathered confirms my own findings."  
  
"Yeah," began Tom Paris awkwardly. "Well, since that worked out so well, I'm going to try contact our other group."  
  
"Might I also examine your communication systems?" asked Galen.  
  
In spite of himself, Tom found himself covering the comm-badge on his chest with his right hand. "Uh, maybe later. Excuse me," he said, dismissing himself. Tom headed over to some nearby trees where he could try to make contact with the Doctor's group.  
  
"A word of advice," began Guinin. "Most humans are not that comfortable around technology that is considerably more advanced than they are used to. You might want to consider."  
  
A white Department of Fish and Wildlife van sped toward them, then quickly lurched to a stop. Its occupants immediately began pouring out in a semi- disorganized mess; but it was the driver that seemed most focused on the Starfleet and Babylon 5 group.  
  
Mulder jumped out of the driver's seat and headed toward them. He stopped just twelve feet from them, looking intently at the group for a moment while ignoring the bystanders. His eyes almost watered with delight at the sight of Lennier and Garak. "I'm Fox Mulder of the FBI," he explained, holding up his badge. "You're from Starfleet?" he asked, letting the question hang in the air.  
  
After a moment's hesitation resulting from surprise at the mention of Starfleet, Owen Paris stepped forward. "I'm Admiral Paris of Starfleet."  
  
Mulder broke out into a huge grin. "Just stay there for a minute." He turned and started running to the van. There, he grabbed one of the men helping others out of the van and hurried back with him. Although the new man had a bandaged wound on his shoulder, Mulder seemed so set on bringing him over that he failed to realize that the man was obviously in a great deal of pain. "I'd like to introduce you to someone who already knows you. This is Frank Parker. He's a time traveler."  
  
"Time traveler?" Guinin stepped to the forefront before Admiral Paris could say anything.  
  
"Hello, Guinin." Frank gave her his prize-winning smile. "Nice to see you again."  
  
"We've met, haven't we," commented the purple clad woman rhetorically.  
  
"You're hurt." Bashir hurried forward to examine the bullet wound in Frank's shoulder. The Starfleet doctor automatically brought out his medical tri-corder and began scanning the dark-haired man.  
  
"You must be Dr. Bashir," Frank said. "Nice to meet you."  
  
"I thought you said you had already met us," replied Julian as he applied a hypospray to the time traveler's neck.  
  
"I met some of the others, but you had already been killed by the time-"  
  
"Killed!" Julian's instruments faltered in his hands.  
  
"Hey, don't worry, man. I'm always changing events in time. And thanks to some of the things from the future Guinin told me about, I think that we take out the Borg before any nuclear attacks."  
  
"Nuclear attacks?" Admiral Paris asked.  
  
"Five days from now. And the bombs don't stop the Borg. They just keep coming and assimilating everything in their path." The look on Frank Parker's face was grim. "We are literally the only hope for the future."  
  
The group's momentary silence was broken as a rude voice intruded. "And we should believe all this with no evidence? I do not think so."  
  
"Ah, Bester." Frank managed a smile. "The Guinin in the future told me you would probably be a problem. That's why she specifically told me to let you look in my head."  
  
Bester hesitated. He had been about to insist upon a telepathic scan of Frank, but having an open invitation to do surprised him. "Why do you offer this?"  
  
"Because I saw you being assimilated."  
  
"Assimilated?" Bester repeated, trying out the unfamiliar term. The Q being had mentioned the word when he had arrived of the B-5 station but had not gone into to much details. Bester had just assumed that Q had just been in a hurry; now he wondered if perhaps there was a reason for Q not to go into details.  
  
Frank tapped his forehead. "Just take a look if you want to find out," he challenged the arrogant telepath.  
  
Bester bit his lip in frustration. Then concentrated. A minute later he turned away. "No! It will not end like this! I will not end like that!"  
  
Bester almost slapped away the hand on his shoulder. Lennier stood there in stoic peacefulness. "If you wish to change the outcome of the future, you must focus on the present situation."  
  
"I know that! I don't need any Minari to tell me that!" snapped the former Psi-Corps agent.  
  
"Then get your act together, man," snapped Guinin, "because my earlier threats to you still apply." Guinin turned her attention back to Mulder and Parker. "Now you said you had talked to me a couple of days from now, in the future. Did my future self have any useful advice to give me or did she just." Words escaped her as her eyes caught sight of something being carried out of the white van. "Oh merciful Lightbringer," she heard herself whisper. "You brought a Borg drone with you."  
  
*****  
  
"Very well, Tom. We shall meet you there." The Doctor put the comm-pin back in one of his many pockets.  
  
"That's an interesting device," commented Ezekiel. The resurrected man was doing his best to open up and interact with the others, especially now that his future had more than just a glimmer of hope.  
  
"Yes. Borrowed to me from the Starfleet fellows we are working with. Seems they have pinpointed the whereabouts of the Borg -- in that direction. That large building over there, I believe."  
  
"That's where they are, all right," commented Jonathan Smith.  
  
"You already knew that?" asked the Doctor; the angel nodded. "Then why didn't you tell us before this?" he asked in an exasperated tone.  
  
The Doctor's disbelief in God and angels was beginning to reestablish itself now that he had had time to think. Absolutes in the universe were just fine by him because they provided structure, but he just didn't accept those absolutes as being established by a sentient all-powerful entity. Thus, the very presence of Jonathan and Monica in the group was beginning to make the Doctor irritable. He was mildly pleased that the one proclaiming himself as the Devil had already taken it upon himself to depart for parts unknown, although he had promised to return.  
  
"There are a lot of things in life you just have to find and work out for yourself," replied the angel.  
  
The Doctor scowled at being given the obvious advice that he usually imparted to the more primitive races that asked for his help in technological advancement for their societies.  
  
"Ah, how about Jonathan and I hang out in the back of the group so we can talk?" asked Ezekiel, hoping to keep things peaceful.  
  
The Doctor grunted in agreement. The group left the small café and began walking in the early evening air, hoping that K-9 could pick up any trace of the Borg.  
  
"Doctor?" Leela passed by the two men as she took her place next to the time-lord. "I wish to ask you something."  
  
"It's not about those so-called angels, is it?"  
  
"No, Doctor. I have no doubts about them. I do wonder, however, about you being so watchful around Lex. He seems like a very pleasant fellow."  
  
The Doctor bit his thumb in thought. "Lex Luthor has a reputation that reaches throughout the continuum. And it's not a good one either. I'd be as wary around him as I would be around the Master."  
  
"He seems like a very strong, determined man. But not bad," insisted the woman.  
  
"Maybe not yet," the Doctor replied. "But he seems to be right on the precipice of going bad. At least that seems to be what he thinks." He looked back to where the bald young man was walking with the much older and gruffer Mark Gordan. The older man was telling the young man story after story about his days as a police officer. Although their personalities were not at all alike, Lex seemed to listen intently to the older man. To the Doctor it seemed as if the bald man was trying to seek redemption through penance. Shaking his head, the time-lord focused his attention back on their nearby objective.  
  
Clark walked in silence with Lana beside him. She seemed to derive comfort in being near him, yet also appeared ill at ease.. Clark merely waited for her to open up. He didn't have to wait long.  
  
"Clark, what it's like to be from another planet?"  
  
"Funny you should ask that," answered Clark. "I really have no idea. That's like asking Pete Ross what it's like to be from Africa when all he has known his whole life is America."  
  
Lana nodded. "Sorry, Clark. It's just a lot to take in."  
  
"Don't worry about it," replied the young Kryptonian. "I'm still thinking about what the Doctor said about the world I came from blowing up."  
  
She nodded again, looking down awkwardly at the pavement. "Yes, that would be a lot to take in."  
  
Clark nodded. "And the Doctor said that I was the last survivor of my planet. That means that I'm the last of my kind. Lana, I know nothing of my heritage and since the planet has blown up, I probably never will."  
  
The young woman saw the pain in Clark's face and it hurt her heart. "Maybe the Doctor was wrong about you being the only survivor. I mean, a race that can send a baby across space in a rocket ship should be able to save more than just one of their people, right?"  
  
Clark nodded gloomily. "I suppose."  
  
They walked in silence for a few seconds, each deep in thought. "And the Doctor said he travels through space and time, so why not ask him to take you back to Krypton or whatever it was called so you can explore your roots. At least to find out why it was you that was sent out across space and not some other baby."  
  
A ray of hope sparkled in Clark's eye. "You may have something there! I'm going to ask the Doctor right now!" Without thinking, the young man leaned over and gave Lana a brief, passionate kiss before hurrying up to the front of the group to talk to the Doctor.  
  
Lana paused for a moment to catch her breath. "Wow! Super!"  
  
Chloe paused in her conversation with Kenny. A lump formed in her throat after seeing Clark kiss her rival for his attention.  
  
"Is something wrong?" asked Kenny. The youthful-appearing Immortal had enjoyed opening up to the pretty blond woman as he related some of the events in his life to her. He never would have dreamed of doing such a thing before, but Monica, the angel currently looking after him, recommended that he do so.  
  
"Um, nothing. Just thought of something. You were telling me about the Childrens' Crusade in medieval Europe." Chloe tried to focus Kenny's stories, but her mind kept returning to Clark and her feelings for him.  
  
Monica followed behind in silence as the group made their way toward the convention center. She continued to send prayers up to God, along with a few pleas to know why this was all happening.  
  
*****  
  
MAKESHIFT AIDS AND HINDERANCES NORTHEAST CONFERENCE HALL ROSEMONT CONVENTION HALL Angus MacGyver walked over to the table and picked up an item. "Now, of all the everyday items out there, I have found this to be one of the most useful." MacGyver pulled out a long strip of duct tape from a roll for dramatic effect. "Now the uses for this piece of adhesive material can be a lot more effective than you see on the 'Red Green Show'." He waited for the chuckles from his audience to subside before continuing.  
  
MacGyver had been very surprised when asked to teach at the conference. Apparently, one of the people putting together the list of speakers had heard of his creativity in making use of common items as a means of offensive or defensive weapons, traps, and various other functional aids. MacGyver agreed to do the class, thinking that very few people would attend his session with so many other sessions available at the same time. But word of his unusual methods had gotten around and over half of the seats available were claimed on the very first hour of orientation. Luckily for him, there were a number of good grocery and hardware stores nearby; he could provision himself for a wide variety of demonstrations.  
  
"Now, we have the obvious things that we can do with duct tape like makeshift handcuffs. But I've actually used it for much more creative things like."  
  
The doors to the hall flew open and two men hurried in, one tall with dark hair, the other shorter and blond. Both men were breathing hard, but moved rapidly toward the podium where MacGyver stood with his duct tape.  
  
"Um, can I help you?" MacGyver asked since he was the speaker there.  
  
"There's a fire!" yelled the taller man. "Everybody has to evacuate the building immediately!"  
  
"A fire, Rick?" inquired the shorter blond man that was accompanying him.  
  
"Yes, a fire," insisted the other man. "Whatever it takes to get these people out of here."  
  
A number of people in the seats became nervous; a few were even gathering up their belongings and heading toward the exit the two men had just entered through.  
  
"Why not the truth?" A.J. asked his brother, Rick.  
  
"What? That there is some kind of weird futuristic terrorists out there? Would you believe it? I saw the whole thing and I barely believe it!"  
  
At the mention of terrorists, almost everyone in the audience was at their feet; they all wanted to hear more of what was going on.  
  
MacGyver was about to ask what was really happening when someone else beat him to it. "Excuse me, what's all this noise about fires, bombs, and terrorists?"  
  
Rick Simon did a double-take. "Say, aren't you John McClane? You handled that hostage crisis in Las Angeles about ten years ago, right?"  
  
"Yeah!" said A.J. "And that airport terrorist thing in that blizzard!"  
  
The man looked at the Simon brothers with anger in his eyes. "That was my cousin. I'm David Addison on the Moonlighting Detective Agency."  
  
Rick and A.J looked at each other. "Never heard of you," they said in unison.  
  
David was about to blow up at the sibling detectives when a woman's hand settled on his shoulder. "You'll have to forgive David," commented an attractive middle-aged blond. "He's mistaken for his cousin all the time and never handles it well."  
  
"Hey!" A.J.'s eyes widened. "You're Maddie Hayes! The model!"  
  
Her eyes fluttered in embarrassment as she worked on blushing. "You recognize me?"  
  
"Are you kidding? That gorgeous face? It's the one thing that we could agree on when we were growing up." A.J. nodded in agreement to Rick.  
  
A slight frown appeared on the former model's face while her partner, David, broke into a bout of laughter. "Excuse me," the man said as he recovered from laughing. "But you were yelling about a bomb and everything.Remember?"  
  
"Right," A.J. agreed. "Now we need to."  
  
"You two need to come with us," said someone behind them.  
  
"And who are you?" asked Rick, doing his best to appear formidable.  
  
"I'm Spenser," said the man. "And this gentlemen is called Hawk. Trust me when I say you don't want to irritate Hawk." Rick, sizing up the black man, took a step back. While Rick tried to appear intimidating, Hawk actually succeeded. "Now, I think it is in your best interest to come with us instead of trying to scare everyone. Then we will hand you over to security and they."  
  
"But there really is a situation here!" insisted A.J.  
  
"The only situation I see here is you." Spenser grabbed one of A.J.'s arms and twisted it behind his back as he began leading him toward the door. Rick thought about trying to fight Hawk but decided against it immediately.  
  
"David, do something," said Maddie.  
  
"Like what? They're probably a couple of pranksters who went too far. You know how it is."  
  
"Mr. Addison is probably right," commented MacGyver. "I'm sure that if there had been an actual situation we'd have all been warned by much more conventional means."  
  
The lights flickered just as the Simon brothers were being led to the door. Everyone in the small auditorium quieted down. In the distance, they could hear the screams of people in terror.  
  
"What's going on out there?" demanded Hawk. The large black man grabbed Rick and pulled him close in a threatening manner.  
  
"We already told you what's going." He stopped when he saw the look of anger in the eyes of the man holding him. "OK, forget all of what we told you. Just get these people out of here," insisted the California detective. "It's not safe to remain here."  
  
"But not that way." Spenser had already let A.J. go and was walking over to the emergency exit door off to the side of the room. MacGyver followed after him, motioning everyone to also follow.  
  
"I believe this door leads straight outside; if there is any real danger in the convention center, we won't be exposed to it." Spenser pushed open the door, letting in the cool evening air. He also let in the drones standing right outside. Before he could dodge, a pronged fist stabbed him in the abdomen.  
  
A second drone reached out to stab MacGyver, but the man managed to catch the arm in the strip of duct tape he still held. He darted quickly behind the drone, using the duct tape to pin one of the drone's arms to its chest, while limiting the access of the other arm. With great earnestness, he wrapped more of the roll of tape around the intruding drone.  
  
Hawk was about to go to his friend, Spenser, when beams of light flashed through the dark opening of the emergency exit, felling whomever they hit. Maddie Hayes was one of the first to go down. As he tried to help Maddie, David Addison soon followed.. Through the moments of chaos, Hawk saw his friend of many years turn to him. Gray veins throbbed horribly as they spread across his face. Spenser mouthed one word to him in that moment and Hawk took that advice, running with the others through the main doors and into the halls of the convention center even as more drones came in through the outside exit.  
  
*****  
  
MACLEOD'S APARTMENT Remington pounded on the door to MacLeod's place. Laura had almost been in a state of terror when she'd noticed they were being followed about ten minutes before they arrived at their destination. Steele was sure he had shook the tail, although he had had to admit that it had been a very good one. It didn't help that Laura's eyes were darting to all the shadowy alleys that they past.  
  
"Are sure he's even home?" Laura asked.  
  
"Of course I am. I can feel him in there." He stopped his pounding for a second. "At least I can feel the quickening of someone in there."  
  
Before he could expand that thought further, the door burst open and a foot flew out of the doorway, kicking Remington a few feet back.  
  
Even with the wind knocked out of him, Steele was able to draw and ready his sword as his unknown attacker rushed him. Still, all he could do was defend himself as the other man continued with a fast and furious assault.  
  
Laura's first instinct was to help her husband. But then she remembered what he had told her. Immortals must fight one on one with no interference or help. She clenched her hands in fear and frustration as she watched. She had seen him survive two fights to the death before, neither of which he had initiated, but this did little to restore her confidence that her husband winning. She then noticed the man behind her.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked, as she moved into a fighting stance her husband had taught her. "Are you Duncan MacLeod?" she asked hopefully.  
  
The handsome blond man shook his head and smiled. "I'm Andrew."  
  
Noticing that he didn't seem at all troubled by the two men violently engaged in a sword fight just a little ways away, Laura made an educated guess. "Are you one of them? Immortal and running around with a sword."  
  
"It's a long time since I've used a sword, Laura."  
  
"You know my name?" she said with surprise. "Who are you?"  
  
Andrew ignored her and took a few steps toward the fighters. "Enough, Methos. This man is not your enemy. He is not after your head. He's merely looking for Duncan's help."  
  
Methos carefully backed away from Remington before lowering his guard and checking a shallow cut on his hip. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place instead of letting me charge out like a fool?" Methos, realizing that Andrew's surprise visit had unnerved him more than he would have thought, mentally kicked himself for recklessly risking his life.  
  
"Methos?" Remington said the name in awe while gasping for air. "The legendary Methos! I just went one-on-one with the oldest living Immortal and survived?"  
  
Methos eyes darkened. "You survived because I didn't finish the fight. And don't go around saying my name. I like anonymity; besides, you don't want the kind of attention that kind of news would get you. Others hearing of your exploits might decide that your quickening is just what they need to win the game."  
  
Remington heard the wisdom in the advice and the slightly veiled threat if he talked about it. He also had more cuts on his body that he had been able to inflict upon the elder Immortal. "We were looking for Duncan."  
  
"So Andrew says." Methos looked over at the angel in white. "Andrew, this guy isn't the threat that brought you here. But if he isn't the threat, then what is?"  
  
Andrew looked grim. "The trouble is where Duncan is."  
  
"Duncan's in trouble. Why doesn't that surprise me?"  
  
"What's going on?" demanded Steele. He was limping due to some of his new injuries, so his wife hurried over to help steady him. Neither of them regarded the severe injuries he had as they both knew they would heal shortly, but blood loss still made Steele feel woozy. "Duncan's a friend of mine and."  
  
"He's my friend, too," snapped Methos. He looked at Andrew distrustfully. "He's the first real friend I've had in a long time."  
  
Andrew nodded. He knew that friendship was a hard thing for Methos to admit to. He also knew it was necessary. "I'm afraid that Duncan's troubles are related to the troubles that Remington and Laura encountered earlier this evening."  
  
Methos turned to the detective couple. Laura stiffened in fear. Steele gripped his blade harder.  
  
"Explain to me what Andrew is talking about."  
  
*****  
  
ROSEMONT CONVENTION HALL Lee Stetson directed people through the chaos ensuing around him. The FBI woman, Dana, and the security guard, Tess, had people hurrying ahead to clear obstacles and find a workable form of egress for everyone, while he directed the two volunteer teams in the rear of the fleeing group. When he last saw Dana, she seemed to be in the middle of a shouting match with the dark-haired woman, Miss Parker. But Tess seemed to be able to get them focused on the matter at hand and they began focusing on the more important thing at hand. Survival.  
  
The first team tried to organize people to help move the wounded or stunned in any way they could. His own wife, Amanda, was busy pushing a food cart with two unconscious people laying on the top of it. Helping her was Jessica Fletcher, one of the speakers of the day, who was, coincidentally, also Amanda's favorite author. Others, such as the Columbos, were half carrying/half dragging the stunned form of CSI man, Grissom.  
  
The second team formed a resistance group in the hopes of delaying or possibly even defeating the attackers. Walker was checking the positions Riggs, Foley, Murtaugh and Rosewood had chosen for themselves, as well as locating places for the unarmed. Meanwhile, the sparse furniture of the center was being dragged away from the walls and used as a protective barrier against the coming drones.  
  
"Wait a minute!"  
  
A skinny dark-haired man, by every definition a nerd, hurried by one of the hastily made blockades helped by one of Dana's associates, John Byers. The nerdy man was hindered by a large remote control device that he had been working on, which was directing a two-foot tall orange plastic-covered robot with wheels and a cone-shaped head.  
  
"Murray, you're going to have to leave it behind," insisted Byers.  
  
"I'm not losing the Roboz, John!" The skinny man worked frantically at his remote as he willed the little orange device to move faster over the thirty foot gap between them..  
  
Even in that hectic moment Lee recognized the famous computer and robotics specialist Murray Bozinsky. Putting down the table he had just dragged into position, Lee reached out and grabbed the skinny scientist's arm and pulled him out of the way of some ugly, yet colorful metal modern art piece the Penhall brothers were trying to get into place for the final part of their blockade. Unfortunately, this caused Murray to drop his remote for the Roboz.  
  
Murray stared at the damaged controls in anger, then turned to face Lee. "Lucky for you the Roboz is set up to recognize my voice commands or else I'd.I'd.I'd." Murray shook his bony fist in frustration but was smart enough to not do anything about it. "Roboz! Move forward." The little orange unit complied with the command and moved toward it's maker.  
  
Murray Bozinsky adjusted his glasses and smiled with approval as the little bot carefully maneuvered around a woman's high heeled shoe that had fallen there, then resumed its direct course. "I've just upgraded his sensors last month and as you can see it works like a dream. Now, if you'd just move one of these obstacles a little so he can fit through, I'd greatly appreciate it."  
  
Lee looked at him as if the geeky scientist was insane. However he was distracted by a young woman shrieking; part of her blouse had caught in some of the sharper edges of the modern art sculpture she was trying to slide past to safety. One of the Penhall brothers was trying to help but was being slapped away by the young woman. Lee turned to John Byers. "Deal with Bozinsky. I don't have time." He purposely turned away before Byers could say anything and went to help Penhall with the young woman.  
  
Byers sighed. "Murray, the Roboz is not going to make it. Those cybernetic organisms are not even fifteen feet behind it and they are faster."  
  
"It's not fair. The Roboz wasn't designed for speed. He was." One of the drones coming from behind the Roboz raised its mechanized right limb; the Roboz ceased to move forward.  
  
"Roboz? Roboz. Move forward!" Murray stared in bewilderment as the computerized device he had designed and built turned itself around and headed straight for the drone that had been behind it. "What's he doing? Roboz! Stop!" Murray cried out.  
  
Byers had to grab the skinny scientist to keep him from jumping over the sloppy wall they had just built. "Murray! This is not rational behavior!"  
  
Bozinsky could only stare as his creation stopped itself in front of the lead drone, a short Chinese man that had been turned into a cybernetic zombie for the Borg. The drone seemed to study the little primitive unit for a moment with its infrared eye and the sensors on its arm. The Roboz jerked slightly, then was still. The drone stood there as if considering it for a further moment, then waved its arm over the small orange unit again. The Roboz turned around the Borg drone and began moving back down the hall and past the oncoming drones.  
  
"That thing has reprogrammed the Roboz!" Murray pushed Byers back and was halfway over the wall before Byers could get a hold on the man's tweed jacket. They struggled briefly until Byers managed to belt Murray with a right hook.  
  
Byers shook his hand in pain, then bent over to drag Murray's limp form off the wall and onto the floor. A hand on his shoulder let him know that Lee was back from dealing with the girl. "Well, at least I stopped him," commented Byers to which Stetson nodded. "But what should I do with him now?"  
  
Lee looked at Byers and shook his head. "You knocked him out; you carry him out. I can't spare anyone to help at this point."  
  
Byers nodded begrudgingly. With one last spiteful look at the oncoming drones, the computer nerd turned and with some effort lifted up the unconscious geeky scientist. Grabbing Murray's arm and putting it around his own neck, Byers hurried after the rest of those fleeing. Behind him, he knew that a very dangerous battle was about to occur and he was somewhat relieved that he would not be there for it. Not that that made him feel any safer.  
  
*****  
  
MACGYVER (1985-1992) Angus MacGyver - (Richard Dean Anderson)  
  
MOONLIGHTING (1985-1989) Maddie Hayes - (Cybill Shepherd) David Addison - (Bruce Willis)  
  
DIE HARD (1988) John McClane - (Bruce Willis)  
  
SPENSER: FOR HIRE (1985-1988) Spencer - (Robert Urich)  
  
A MAN CALLED HAWK (1989) Hawk - (Avery Brooks)  
  
*****  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Let's see. I'm living in Vancouver area of Washington which is just north of Portland. Big move. Still looking for work, but I'm being optimistic. My wife and I just had our first Thanksgiving together and I am very grateful for her. I've also been doing research on another story I am considering writing. But don't worry. I'll still keep writing about this one, too.  
  
As for the story, I will tell of how Remington Steele became an Immortal in my next posting. Dana will have to find a way out while the Doctor will have to find a way in. Lee Stetson's troops fight the Borg. Everything else you will just have to wait to see. 


	6. chapter 6

ROSEMONT COVENTION CENTER "Keep your head down!" Lee Stetson pulled the woman out from behind the tipped-over candy machine. Candy bars had littered the floor but no one had time to think about grabbing any of them.  
  
The long-haired blond woman turned to scowl at him. She held out a lighter and pushed Lee back. Sticking her head up, she spit the alcohol in her mouth at a very nearby Borg drone, lighting it mid-air with the lighter. The drone lit up, waved its arms about for a few seconds before falling half on top of the candy dispenser. It lay there twitching.  
  
Jody Banks turned her angry look at Lee again. "I know my business and I can handle myself!"  
  
"You're taking too many risks. I don't care if you are a stunt woman."  
  
Jody grabbed the bottle of very potent alcohol she had used to fuel the fire and stuffed some cloth in the top. "They got Colt. And now they are going to pay! I don't care about anything else!"  
  
"They will pay. Just don't start any more fires in here!" Lee insisted. The Borg drones were closing fast on the barricades their Human prey had erected. The guns provided by Billy Rosewood and Martin Riggs turned out to be highly ineffective, even slightly dangerous, as Joey Penhall found out when a ricochet bullet clipped his side. Rosewood's grenades shook the drones around just enough to keep them from the advantage. All in all, the drones were still persistent and closing ground.  
  
"Just one more," Jody said. Peeking over the top, Jody tossed the mol tov cocktail before Lee could say anything to stop her. Laying across the candy machine, the burning Borg's arm lurched forward, tubules extended to pierce Jody's shoulder.  
  
"Aaargh!" Jody began lashing out at the burning body with her fists repeatedly.  
  
"Stop!" Lee pulled her back. "You'll hurt yourself." It wasn't until he had her down again that he saw the tell-tale sign of the greyish veins beginning on her face. "Awe, Jody. You should have listened."  
  
A body settling beside him caused Lee to jump.  
  
"Hey, chief. Just me." Lennie Briscoe gripped a metal bar tightly. The bar had previously been part of a coat rack, but was now a weapon. "Things are getting pretty close quarters. I recommend that we pull back."  
  
Lee held Jody as her body trembled, its system being invaded. From his vantage point, he could see the other encounters. Axle Foley was busy bashing a drone in the side with a thin metal trash can. He worked to keep it off balance while trying to knock it unconscious. Sheriff Walker was doing his best to cover Foley, but the black Detroit cop was stunned from the shot of a nearby drone. Before Walker could pull Foley to cover, however, the drone he'd been beating on injected him in the foot.  
  
"We can't hold them," Stetson observed, for his own realization as well as to acknowledge this thought to Briscoe.  
  
"Yeah," agreed Briscoe. "I'd always wondered how the defenders of the Alamo felt holding back the Mexican Army. I figured they must have felt honored to have just been there. Now I know that they were just scared and wanted to survive."  
  
Hurrying over on his hands and knees was another one of the defenders, Thomas Hooker. "They got the blond?" he asked, looking over at Jody. "Too bad. Anyway, we got a problem. Riggs and Magnum decided to try an offensive move."  
  
A look of disbelief crossed Stetson's face. "Offensive? How?"  
  
"Look over there."  
  
Martin Riggs and Thomas Magnum had each managed to tear off a door and were using them as shields to get closer to the drones. Each of them had a large knife courtesy of Billy Rosewood; their intent was obvious. Beams of light were blocked by the doors, leading Lee to believe they might actually have something in a means of attack. The Borg had other ideas, however. Two oncoming drones shot out more beams of light, causing the two doors to vaporize and leaving the two potential heroes exposed.  
  
Magnum ran back to the erected barricade and was hit by a stun beam just as he was halfway over. He had to be pulled to safety by his companions. Riggs chose a different path. He quickly roll toward the nearest drone, then leaped up to tackle it. He sat on its chest, slashing it quickly twice across the throat. Then, he threw the body at another drone nearby, but it only bounced off its personal force field. Before he could do anything else, a beam hit Riggs straight in the chest causing him to collapse across the drone he had been on top of just a moment before.  
  
"Riggs!"  
  
A black man with greying hair was trying to get to his stunned friend, but was being held back by Doug Penhall. Lee recognized the man from the earlier introductions as Roger Murtaugh, a friend of Riggs.  
  
Lee examined the facts. The Borg continued to pour into the hall with no end to their numbers in sight. His own team was dwindling fast. "Let's get out of here, people! Help the wounded and try to take cover!"  
  
He looked down at Jody. She had ceased twitching, but her skin still showed signs of pulsating metallic veins. "Forgive me." With a quick hard jerk, he broke her neck.  
  
"Ah, you really think that was necessary?" asked Briscoe  
  
Lee laid Jody's body gently to the side. "It's what she would have wanted."  
  
Lee followed the others down the hall. He saw Rosewood and Walker stay behind, providing the others a few more seconds of cover. He knew it was shear suicide, but it was most likely the only way that any of them would survive. Saying a silent prayer for them, Lee hurried over to help Doug Penhall carry Magnum's stunned body down the hall.  
  
*****  
  
OUTSIDE THE ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER Lex and Mark helped Clark get back to his feet. "You all right?" Lex asked, quickly realizing that Clark was much heavier than he looked. Lex rationalized that Kryptonians must have a higher density than Humans.  
  
The young Kryptonian in question shook his right hand in pain. "Man, oh man! That stings!" Chloe and Lana hurried over to check on their favorite brunette and made all the appropriate sympathy noises.  
  
"I told you not to try that," the Doctor tisked. "You really should consider listening to the advice others have to offer." He returned his sonic screwdriver to his pocket in frustration. "This barrier still presents a problem," he added.  
  
"It just tingles if you touch it lightly," offered Kenny, his hands gently caressing the transparent energy force field in front of the convention center's main entrance. The force field had effectively sealed off that portion of the building. Nearby groups of bystanders were also carefully testing the field out of curiosity.  
  
Ezekiel Stone pulled Kenny back from the light-bluish energy field. "You got to be careful, kid; you could, uh.I mean, man, you could hurt yourself."  
  
Kenny did not look at all appreciated. "I'm not a boy. I've already explained that to you. Besides," he said, looking at the wall of energy again, "I've taken in more energy than this before." His tone of false bravado contradicted his words. Seeing the Ezekiel was doubting his chances of doing such a thing, Kenny shrugged. "Well, at least it wouldn't kill me. For long, anyway."  
  
The force field itself appeared to be powered and controlled through five two-and-a-half foot metal poles evenly spaced and completely covered by the field. On the other side of the energy barrier, the doors to the Center were just ten feet away. Various items such as discarded shoes, purses, glasses, and styrofoam coffee cups were strewn about on the ground. This lead everyone to conclude that something dreadful had most likely happened.  
  
"Well, don't try hitting it," remarked Clark. "It's got a nasty kick to it."  
  
"You can't solve all your problems with brute force, Clark," chastised Luthor kindly. "It's often better to think first, before you act."  
  
Mark Gordon nodded in agreement with Lex. "He's right. Brains have a good advantage over brawn when used right." Then he thought a moment. "Then again, brains backed up by brawn have an even bigger advantage.  
  
"Now what, Doctor?" Leela asked.  
  
The Doctor stood still as he considered the obstacle before him. "K-9, check for any other openings to the building, as well as the strength of this force field and the energy pattern it uses."  
  
The small robotic dog pulled up close to the Doctor and set its sensors to work. Its satellite dish ears swiveled back and forth as it began compiling data.  
  
"So where do you go to get a device like that?" asked Lex as he observed the canine unit at work.  
  
"Much further than you'd believe," answered the Doctor sharply. The frustrated time-lord cast a backward glance to where the two so-called angels, Jonathan and Monica, were having a private conversation; a conversation the Doctor really wished he could listen in on.  
  
"Can you see anything that is going on in there, Clark?" asked Chloe, gingerly rubbing his hurt hand much to the frustration of the nearby Lana.  
  
"You can see inside the building?" The time-lord turned in wide-eyed wonder. "But of course you can! You're a Kryptonian!"  
  
"Yeah," agreed Kenny. "There's not much he can't do." Having heard more about his new-found companions, Kenny had become a quick fan of Clark and Lex. This caused them much awkward amusement. The youthful looking Immortal had read a lot of comic books while trying to retain his adolescent image and had become addicted to them as a result.  
  
"All right." Clark turned to gaze at the structure before him. He let his eyes dilate as his vision began sorting through the layers of the building. Beams of steel, layers of bricks, sheets of sheet rock, coats of paint, and various odds and ends passed before his eyes. Further into the building, he spotted a group of people. Some of them seemed to have wires spread throughout their bodies and wore bizarre clothing that seemed almost to emerge from within them. Each of them appeared to have had one of their arms replaced with rather unusual devices.  
  
"Uh, I'm not exactly sure what I'm seeing here. I'm guessing what I see is people..or maybe the Borg you were talking about."  
  
"Cybernetic beings?" inquired the Doctor.  
  
"Yeah, I think it's safe to call them that," Clark said as he involuntarily swallowed. The sight of the drones from the inside out was rather unnerving. "Though I can't imagine anyone volunteering to have that done to them."  
  
"It is not voluntary," remarked Leela coldly. "They are taken and forced into the dishonorable union of the Borg."  
  
"I think I can understand that," Ezekiel remarked darkly, thinking of his own deal with the Devil. "If we can stop it, we should."  
  
"Hey!" Clark interrupted. "They're coming up on someone." Clark stared into the building before him, seeing what the others could not see. "A woman. She's hiding in a closet, but they seem to know right where she is."  
  
"Maybe they have x-ray vision, too!" proclaimed Kenny.  
  
The Doctor shook his head. "More likely, they have a type of radar. Probably heat sensors or something to detect life forms."  
  
"They have her!" shouted Clark. He pushed against the force field in frustration; it was blocking his way to the damsel in distress.  
  
"You have to do something, Clark!" pleaded Lana.  
  
"How? This force field is keeping everybody out."  
  
"Clark." Luthor pointed to the side of the building. "The field only covers the doors and windows. Not the walls."  
  
Clark didn't need to have anything else explained to him. He took off at super speed.  
  
"No! Not by yourself!" yelled the Doctor. But it was too late. Clark ran head-on into the side of the building, leaving behind a Clark-shaped hole and a spray of dust.  
  
"Hurry!" Leela rushed to the new opening in the convention center, pushing loose rubble out of the way to broaden the opening just a little. Chloe and Lana rapidly climbed through the hole and headed down the hall in the direction that Clark had indicated the woman was.  
  
"Leela! Stay with them!" shouted the Doctor. "The Borg are in their assimilation mode. Don't let the girls go by themselves!"  
  
Ezekiel and Kenny were the next to reach the hole Clark had made. Kenny was halfway through when he looked back. "Hey! Aren't you coming?"  
  
The subject of his inquiry, Monica and Jonathan, merely smiled. "You don't need us from this point on." Monica voice was reassuring, yet sad. "You will need to have faith for the challenges that you will face within."  
  
"Ah, ha!" The Doctor took off his hat in a sweeping gesture. "So there is something that you are afraid of. And it's in there," he said, pointing to the convention center. "What is it? Are you afraid of the Borg and what they can do to you? Or is it something else?"  
  
Jonathan shook his head, yet maintained his smile. "Yours is a suspicious mind, Doctor. I think it is rather odd, though, that you expect others to trust you at the drop of a hat in the most bizarre situations, yet you can't seem to give that same trust."  
  
The Doctor scowled, but said nothing. Lex Luthor and Mark Gordon cleared a path through the hole for K-9 to roll through. In the distance, police and fire truck sirens sounded. The sharp whine drew closer, indicating someone had phoned for help.  
  
"Are you coming, Mark?" Lex asked. The bald man wouldn't hold it against the older, bearded man if he didn't choose to go with them. As it was, Lex wasn't that comfortable going himself but felt compelled out of curiosity.  
  
Mark looked over at Jonathan. The angel nodded his head; the decision was up to Mark. "Well, I always wondered what people saw in all those sci fi movies. I guess now is as good a time as any to find out."  
  
*****  
  
NEAR THE SPACE NEEDLE "Are you sure you have to go? I mean, there sure seems like a lot to do here." Sheriff Barney Fife let his words hang in the air. The old man knew it was more of a plea than anything else. But he really didn't want his deputy leaving him alone with strangers in a city that he wasn't familiar, in a reality that seemed to be falling all around him.  
  
Jarod smiled reassuringly. "Sheriff, I just have to go back to the Rosemont." Behind him, the Pretender could hear the others climbing into the white Fish & Wildlife van. "I don't have time to explain much. But when Mulder's partner, Scully, called a few minutes ago, she said they were being trapped and stalked by the Borg. She also said that several people I know showed up looking for me and are now trapped inside, too."  
  
"These are the people that you were running from?" asked Barney.  
  
"You knew that I was running from someone?" exclaimed the Pretender in surprise.  
  
Barney snorted. "I'm not the sheriff of Mayberry for nothing, you know. I know when someone's on the run when I see them." He made sure to look directly into his deputy's eyes. "I also know when someone is innocent and just wants to help people."  
  
Jarod's jaw dropped. But before he could ask anything, Tom Paris grabbed his elbow. "Hey, if you are coming, climb in now. But I warn you, its going to be a tight fit."  
  
Jarod quickly grabbed Sheriff Fife's hand and shook it. "Next time I'm in Mayberry, I'll be sure to look you up."  
  
"You better." The sheriff watched as the van doors closed and took off in the direction of the Rosemont Convention Center. As he stood there, he also heard a number of sirens start up in distant parts of the city. "It's going to be one of those nights," muttered Barney, as he turned to the nearby church Agent Hobbes had cleared of people.  
  
Frank Parker was sitting on a chair at the side of the church entrance, busily talking on a cell phone while keeping people out of the building. Most of the gawkers had thought the scene was being played out by a troop of actors had hurried away once Mulder and Hobbes had flashed their badges. The remaining people were those that had followed them from the park. They were either too stoned to know better than to follow or were of a rebellious sort who hated authority figures and were determined to find out what was going on. One look from Bobby Hobbes, however, kept them from foolishly coming too close.  
  
Bobby stood near the doorway. He held his gun in one hand with something wrapped up in a jacket under his other arm. Barney knew all too well what was in the blood-soaked jacket and didn't want to think about it. The way the government agent just stood there looking out was unnerving. Sometimes, Bobby turned to listen to the conversations going on inside; the rest of the time, he just kept looking outside. Making sure not to make eye contact, Barney walked past Hobbes. Unfortunately, that brought him right to Garak.  
  
"Ah, Constable. I was wondering if you might help me with something."  
  
"It's Sheriff Fife, Mr. Space Man," answered Barney with a curl in his lip as he tried to look fierce. Garak merely stood there with an amused smile. This only served to make the country sheriff that much more uneasy. "What is it you want?"  
  
"Just help with our patients," Garak said with an open-armed gesture.  
  
"Well, sure I'll help. What do you." Words failed the skinny sheriff when he suddenly recollected just who the patients were. "The zombies!?! Are you crazy!?! I'm not going anywhere near them again!"  
  
Garak continued smiling, unfazed, in what Barney found to be a very reptilian manner. "Then why are you here, Sheriff Fife?"  
  
Barney felt something catch in his throat. He didn't want to admit that the only reason he had stayed behind was because the very thought of going back to the Rosemont Center terrified him. "Fine," he said, giving in to intimidation. "What is it that you want me to do?"  
  
Garak held up some ropes. "Just help me secure the drones."  
  
"Um, o.okay."  
  
The first drone, still in it's first stage of transformation, was not complete yet. Langly, as his friend called him, had greyish metallic veins under his skin that seemed to twitch with a life of their own. The unkempt, long-haired blond was not responsive to his condition but the Mayberry sheriff was certain that it had to hurt something awful. The only reason he knew the man wasn't in a coma was because his eyes were wide open and he could be left in a standing position and not fall down.  
  
One of Langly's friends, who had been introduced to Barney as Melvin Frohike, was sitting patiently beside his comatose friend and discussing all sorts of things that sounded like outrageous conspiracy theories. With all that had happened that day, however, Barney thought that anything could be possible.  
  
The other drone, the female that the self-proclaimed time traveler had insisted that they bring here, was receiving considerable attention from the Starfleet doctor.  
  
"So what's so special about her?" Barney Fife asked as he began tying one of the rope ends to a leg of the table on which the drone was laying.  
  
Dr. Julian Bashir looked up from his medical tri-corder. "No one's told you? This young lady is one of a group of four that was traipsing across the multiverse trying to find the parallel world on which they originated. Her name is Wade Welles." Julian looked down in fascination at the drone before him. "I'd have never thought that there was a snowball's chance in hell of anyone finding her, but here she is."  
  
"I don't mean to be rude, Doc," began Barney as he passed the rope over to Garak. Barney made sure not to actually touch the alien, much to the Cardassian's amusement. "But can you make her Human again?"  
  
Some of the wonder left the young doctor's eyes as grim reality set in. "The procedure has only been done a few times before, and that was with excellent facilities to work in. And while I have never done something like this before, I have studied it intensely. Just a few hours ago, I was being thoroughly briefed about the subject by two physicians that have successively brought their subjects back from the Collective."  
  
"Yeah?" Barney glanced over the body of the dormant female drone. "Not much you can do about her missing arm."  
  
"Actually I can replace that once I get her back to my medical facilities."  
  
Barney looked again over the drone that was Wade Welles. "What about all that veiny stuff?"  
  
"That and the nanites in her system can be removed with some of the equipment that I brought with me. I'll also have to inject some reprogrammed nanites in to fix the damage caused by the earlier injection," answered Julian. "I've already begun the process on Mr. Frohike's friend, Mr. Langly. If it had been much longer, however, he would have had to have even more medical treatment from me than I can do here."  
  
"So you can cure him?"  
  
"Ah, well, we will have to see. It's experimental and hasn't been tested yet, except for a few trials with holodeck simulations. But the theory is sound and the holographic doctor of Voyager seemed sure that it would work."  
  
"You don't seem too sure about that, doctor," Garak observed.  
  
"The process should work fine for Mr. Langly. Miss Welles, though, may be another matter. She has been through the complete drone process, unlike Mr. Langly, and is completely unresponsive to any of my initial tests. Since her disconnection from the hive mind of the Collective, she just appears to shut herself further and further down. If I can somehow communicate with her soon, I may be able to save her."  
  
A hand came down hard on the doctor's shoulder and spun him around. Before Julian could understand what was happening, he found a gun in his face. The man holding the gun was furious. "You would try to save her? To save her!?!" Hobbes enunciated each sentence by shoving the gun closer and closer to Bashir.  
  
"Oh dear," Garak interjected. "Perhaps we can discuss this in a more civilized manner." Frohike moved to place his body in front of Langly's. When the Lone Gunman realized that neither he nor Langly were in any immediate danger, he figured it best not to do anything to bring them to Hobbes' attention.  
  
"She infected my partner with that stuff!" he said, indicating the Wade Welles drone. "She's the reason that I had to kill my partner! Darien was my friend!"  
  
"You don't want to do this!" Barney pleaded. "Darien wouldn't want this."  
  
Bobby Hobbes shuddered for a moment. Garak started to move closer; one look from Hobbes made him pull back. Hobbes looked down at the bloodstained jacket still bundled under his arm and sighed. "Alright, let's do this like Darien would want me to do it." He thought for a minute but kept the gun pointed directly at the doctor. "Now, Mr. Space Doctor, can you do transplants and regulate body fluctuations?"  
  
Bashir thought for a second to make sure that he was hearing the man correctly. "Uh, yes. I suppose so."  
  
"Okay, we're going to make a deal."  
  
"A deal?" whispered Julian, trying to imagine what the armed crazy man was going to ask of him.  
  
"Yeah. A deal. I get you someone to communicate with that-that woman, and you." Bobby stopped to catch his breath. "You will do a transplant for me."  
  
Hobbes backed away from Julian and lowered his gun. At a nearby table, Bobby carefully set down and began to unwrap the bundle he had been carrying one handed. The blood stuck in some places but he carefully performed the deed he had set upon.  
  
Julian stared in disbelief at the sight before him. Lying in the middle of the jacket was a severed head. "You want me to transplant a head? Are you insane?" The words caught in his throat as he realized that the gun was still aimed in his general direction.  
  
"Julian," spoke up Garak, "perhaps you should hear him out before judging his mental capacities."  
  
"The doctor sounds right on to me," commented Barney, though he was shaking fearfully.  
  
"I'm not talking about a head transplant," spat Bobby. "This is my friend Darien. He has a synthesized gland in his head that was put there surgically. It secrets a quicksilver substance that surrounds his body and renders him invisible. It also has to be carefully regulated or madness begins to take over."  
  
The doctor's curiosity overrode his hesitancy. Even though there was a gun pointed at him, he began to take a critical look at the severed head. The first thing he noticed was how obviously fresh the wound was. He could also see that the Borg nanites, evident due to the greyish lines on the face, had ceased their performance once their subject was dead. "It might be possible," Julian found himself saying.  
  
"Then do we have a deal?"  
  
"You really think that you can get someone to communicate with her?"  
  
Bobby managed to nod and put away his gun. "I can."  
  
"'Scuse me," Frank Parker spoke up from the door. "Hate to interrupt this rather intense moment, but I have a woman out here asking for Mr. Hobbes."  
  
"Oh no. Claire," bemoaned Bobby. "I called her on the way over here. I didn't tell her about Darien though."  
  
"Claire?" asked Julian.  
  
"Claire Keeply. Your new assistant, hopefully." Bobby gently patted Darien's head. "That is if she doesn't kill me."  
  
*****  
  
A RENTED LEXUS GOING NORTH ON I-5 Methos speed up and around the semi truck. He hated the rocks that the big trucks would kick up sometimes and crack the windshields of whoever happened to be unluckily enough to be behind them. Traffic seemed to be slowing down up ahead but that was a common occurrence on I-5 for this time of day.  
  
In the passenger seat sat Remington Steele, who had actually rented the Lexus a week ago. It had been at Methos insistence that he be able to drive since he knew the area better as well as all the shortcuts. Besides, Methos didn't know Remington and wasn't ready to trust him just yet. They had agreed to not take Laura, Remington's wife, back with them to the Rosemont. Laura had been rather upset over the matter but her husband pointed out how dangerous it was going to be and had her agree to meet her at a prearranged spot they had set up earlier in case of any Immortal challenges.  
  
Methos had been secretly relieved that Andrew had left. It wasn't that he found the angel of death intimidating - Methos just knew that when it came to his final battle - the battle where he would lose his head to some challenger - that Andrew would be there to bear witness and greet him as his spirit left his decapitated body. It's rather amazing how few Immortals actually worried about dying unlike Methos who didn't like to take chances. And that point of view is what made him what he is today - the world's oldest living Immortal.  
  
Remington shifted uneasily in the passenger's seat. "So, oh great and mighty Methos, what's the secret to living five thousand years?"  
  
Methos smirked. "Can you keep a secret?"  
  
Remington's attention was focused. "Yes."  
  
"So can I." He returned his attention back to the road, having to slow down as a teenager in a Ford Tempo cut into his lane without using blinkers. Something that was a real pet peeve of his. "You're just under a hundred years, right?"  
  
"Is it that obvious?"  
  
Methos looked over at him. "Only to the experienced eye. You're from Ireland or Scottland?"  
  
"Spent some time growing up in both actually." Remington looked out at the rainy atmosphere of Washington. "I was orphaned early in life. Don't know what name I was born with or even when exactely. Ended up having to take to picking pockets and other types of light larceny in order to survive. One day I running from a very persistent copper and ducked into a theater to get away. They were showing 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' with Lon Chaney. I became instantly hooked to cinemas and it remained a big part of my life."  
  
"And your first death?"  
  
"Later when I was about 27 or 28. I had a boating accident of all things. I was trying to impress this beautiful young woman whose father was very rich and didn't want riffraff around his daughter. But he couldn't tell her what to do because his daughter had a mind of her own and would just do what she wanted anyway. So her father had people follow us everywhere we went. She and I tired of our entourage rather quickly and escaped them on a rented rowboat. However, while doing a impromptu balancing act on the side of the boat to impress her, I slipped, hit my head and fell in the water."  
  
"So you died," commented Methos.  
  
"Only I didn't know it at the time. The young woman was able to pull me out of the water rather quickly and a few minutes later I was coughing and gasping for air. She was rather impressed with the fact that she had saved me. I was rather grateful, too."  
  
"You had no clue that you had died your first death," concluded the older Immortal.  
  
"Quite right," Remington said. "And after that her father decided she needed a change of scenery and took her away with him on a trip to see North and South America. It was a couple of months after that that I meet my first Immortal and he showed me what I was."  
  
"I take it that he was a mentor and not a roving headhunter looking for an easy mark."  
  
"Hugh Fitzcairn was a lot of things but he did not live for the Game." A dazed expression spread across his face as his mind turned to earlier times. "He helped me learn swordplay and I helped him find a way to deal with changes in society."  
  
"You help him how?"  
  
"Well, Fitz had lived for hundreds of years and many of the old ways were being replaced with new things in the twentieth century. He was having a hard time dealing with it."  
  
Methos, who had lived over several millennia, understood the concept of having to deal with all the changes due to the twentieth century. "So what did you do?"  
  
"I introduced him to the cinema."  
  
Laughter filled the car for several minutes. Later, Remington explained to Methos the way Fitz and he would toss the names, dates and stars of movies to each other as reference points to ideas or concepts they wanted to discuss. Methos just dismissed of the cinema idea as irrelevant for him.  
  
"Well this is it." Remington tensed as they drew closer and closer to the Rosemont Convention Center. Methos avoided the parking ramp and drove toward the main doors. "What is that over the doors? It looks like its made of energy. A force field?"  
  
Methos grimaced. "I'm more concerned with who is standing in front of it. The gray-haired man with the cane is Joe Dawson. I don't know who his friend." Methos slammed on the brakes. "Oh no. Joe, don't do this to me."  
  
"What?" asked Remington, recovering from the jarring stop. He looked at the two men who seemed to be inspecting a hole in the side of the building. It was then that he felt the quickening in him tingle.  
  
"He's with Connor MacLeod."  
  
"Duncan's clansman? Well, that's good news, right?" Remington really wanted that to be good news. He'd already had one sword fight. He didn't want to have another.  
  
The older Immortal frowned when he saw Connor turn their way and grin. "I don't know if it's good news or not. But from now on call me Adam Pierson. I'd rather he didn't know who I really was."  
  
Remington looked in his rearview mirror to see police lights coming their way. "Well, Adam, whatever it is that we are going to do we better do it soon."  
  
*****  
  
HALLS OF THE ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER "Set him down here, dear. I think he is starting to come around."  
  
Lt. Columbo dragged Gil Grissom over to a nearby bench then carefully took the man's arm from over his neck and eased him down.  
  
As Gil groaned, Kate Columbo leaned in close so that she could open his eyes and check to see if his eyes were dilated. Meanwhile, Mr. Columbo surveyed the reason for everybody stopping in their mad rush to escape the Borg. Dana Scully, one of those that seemed to be in authority of the situation, was just a little ahead of him so he knew that whatever was going on had to be happening close by. He saw that she was looking down the hall and he saw the Simon brothers coming from that way in a hurry. Before the lieutenant could get any closer, however, an older bald man, breathing hard and sucking on a lollipop, parked a bearded man in a wheelchair right in front of him, effectively blocking him off thanks to all the other people crowding in.  
  
Unable to go forward, Mr. Columbo turned back to his wife and Mr. Grissom. He had already deduced from the frightened expression of the faces of those accompanying Rick and A.J. Simon that the way was blocked and that they had most likely had another encounter with the cybernetic attackers.  
  
"Dear, what going on?"  
  
Lt. Columbo's heart twisted as he looked into his wife's eyes. "Doesn't look good, honey."  
  
Kate's lips whitened. Then she resumed to loosening Gil's collar and dotting on him like a mother would a sick child. For Gil's part, he was starting to flutter his eyes a little as he began to return to conciseness. Nearby, the police detective saw Amanda King-Stetson and the novelist, Jessica Fletcher, sitting back and catching their breaths as they, too, watched the people that they had rescued start to stir.  
  
A bump from behind him drew his attention to a skinny bearded man dressed in a suit dragging another skinny man who was unconscious.  
  
"Sorry," said the out of breath man as he deposited his burden. He then collapsed next to the man that he had carried and continued to draw in deep breaths of air.  
  
"You all right?"  
  
"Fine. I'm Byers" He saw the detective regarding the man slumped at his side. "That's a friend of mine. Name's Murray Bozinsky."  
  
"The famous inventor turned private investigator?"  
  
"The same." Byers lifted up Murray's head to check out the bruise forming there. "And he's not going to be very happy with me when he comes to."  
  
"Sounds like its something you can work out." But the detective was not very interested in that as he could see that the security guard, Tess, was calling everybody to order so Dana could be heard.  
  
"People," began the redhead fed. "I've just been informed that the conference halls in the East Wing have been compromised. The exits there have also been blocked." She waited for all the outcries of fear to quiet down before continuing. "We can still try for the North exit. We don't know what we will find there but it's better than just waiting here. We will have to be prepared to fight our way through though."  
  
"Already on that, ma'am." Two people, MacGyver and Hawk came over carrying a number of various cleaning solutions from a nearby janitors closet that they had broken into. "I believe I can make a number of concussion grenades to clear us a path through those things."  
  
"Can you blow a hole in the wall?" called out Jessica Fletcher.  
  
MacGyver looked at the chemicals they had carefully as he considered. "It's possible. Though, the outer walls looked pretty formidable so I wouldn't bet on it."  
  
"Well, is there any other way to breach the outside wall?" Miss Parker asked in a demanding tone. The young woman from the Centre was not liking this turn of events and found that being chased all over by who knows what very daunting.  
  
"Again, nothing that I can guarantee," answered MacGyver, who was very well aware that he was letting everyones spirits down.  
  
"Excuse me for interrupting," Lt. Columbo said as he stepped around the wheelchaired man in front of him. "But if all the doors and windows are blocked, and the walls can't be broken down, why not just go over the wall."  
  
Questioning looks were on everyones faces, as the detective gave them a minute to think about it. Before anyone asked him anything, however, a pain began in his left earlobe.  
  
"I think everyone would just appreciate the answer without having to ask for it, dear." Mrs. Columbo gave another painful twist to his ear to enunciate her point.  
  
"Ah, I love a feisty woman," the detective said as he stepped away from his wife while rubbing his ear."  
  
"Out with it, man!" demanded Tess. "Time is lives here."  
  
"Of course, of course," he said. "I was merely referring to the roof access."  
  
"Tess! Can we climb down from the roof safely?" Dana asked, hurriedly.  
  
The security chief shook her head. "It wasn't set up that way, I'm afraid."  
  
"I can take care of that," MacGyver interjected. "Hawk, go into one of the halls that is still safe and get all thick curtains and rope you can get your hands on." Hawk merely nodded and turned to go, stopping only to point at A.J., Rick and a few others to come help him. "I think we can you some of these liquid soaps and that nearby firehouse to slow down their advance, but I will need some volunteers." He looked around into the scared eyes of those around him hoping for someone to step up. "I won't lie. I will be very dangerous and possibly not even work. But it could save everyone."  
  
"I-I'll do it," came a quiet answer.  
  
"Broots?" Miss Parker didn't even try to hide her surprise. "You can't be serious?" For a moment she felt the eyes of everyone in the place on her. "I mean, you could get killed."  
  
"Don't worry," replied Sydney, "I'll be staying to help him."  
  
Miss Parker's eyes widened in fear. "You can't both stay!" The tremor in her voice was very obvious. She mentally cursed Jarod for all his noble good deeds rubbing off on others. "I mean, I'm responsible for your safety and I say you are coming with me!"  
  
Sydney had a sad smile on his face. "Say goodbye to your father to me. And when you see Jarod ..." His eyes misted over for a moment but were cleared with a few rapid blinks. "Tell Jarod it was a rare privilege to know someone like him. Goodbye Catherine."  
  
Miss Parker turned away. Mad at Sydney for abandoning her. Mad at Broots for making the offer of self-sacrifice. Mad at Jarod for being so hard to catch. Mad at her father for putting so much value in Jarod and not in her. Mad at herself for . everything she had let her life become. Walking away from the group of strangers she pulled out her cell phone and made a phone call.  
  
"Um," MacGyver spoke up to break up the awkward moment. "If I could speak with you two about what I have in mind." Broots and Sydney walked over to him, people parting before them, reaching out to touch their shoulders in silent thanks for the risk they were about to undertake.  
  
Dana stepped again, raising her hand to get people to focus on her again. "All right, everybody. We are going to try the roof access as a way out of here. We are going to have to do this in a organized manner. And those more able should help those around you that need your help. Now, since you all have backgrounds in law enforcement, you all know how to keep it together while helping others. Now Tess is going to lead the way, so let's keep it together people."  
  
Lt. Columbo watched as his wife helped a groaning Gil Grissom to his feet. Next to them, Byers was trying to get a still knocked out Bozinsky up so that he could drag him again.  
  
"Here, let me help you." Columbo got on the other side of Bozinsky and put the man's arm over his neck.  
  
"Thanks," Byers said with a grunt. The normally neatly dressed Lone Gunmen member was looking rather ragged at the moment. His clothing looked unkempt and was covered with various smudge marks. His hair looked like it belonged to a wild man.  
  
"That's what people do. They help each other in times of need."  
  
"Honey." Kate stepped up in front of him, and gave him a quick kiss. "Time to stop talking and time to get moving."  
  
The lieutenant gave her a wink, then shot Byers a grin. "Nothing like a good woman to keep you on track, eh?."  
  
Byers not really knowing what to say since he wasn't used to public displays of affection, just agreed. "Uh, yes sir."  
  
The group all began to move down the hall, leaving Broots and Sydney with MacGyver who was explaining his plan with the firehoses more thoroughly.  
  
*****  
  
SOMEWHERE IN THE ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER Duncan managed to keep from groaning as his body worked overtime to heal it of the strange metallic things that had been invading his body. Nothing in his four hundred years of existence had prepared him for this.  
  
He looked at his bare chest - his torn and burned clothes had been removed earlier while he was unconscious - The grey veins that seemed to protrude all over were slowly shrinking much to Duncan's relief.  
  
Out a nearby door, he could see dozen's, perhaps hundreds of people, that all seemed to have similar metallic things showing on their skin, patiently waiting in lines in a hypnotic like state. As he watched, one of the occupants of a table near his rose and slowly walked out the door now that it had been fully equipped with the suit and equipment all the finished drones seemed to have. Another complete drone took the arm of one of those first in line. He was a stocky man with brown hair who, after a moment, Duncan recognized as a somewhat well known stuntman, Colt Seavers. A puncture wound in the man's right arm led the Immortal to conclude that that was where he had been injected by his attackers.  
  
Nearby, another one of his captors was carefully taking apart some of the inner workings of a two and a half foot orange robot-like thing that like nothing Duncan had ever seen before. Soon the drone had whatever it wanted from the orange robot and set the little piece of circuitry on a shelf. Then it picked up what was left of the orange robot and put it on one of the white platform that he had seen them use before to absorb things to use to turn to other things.  
  
It was just after he watched the body of the orange robot disappear in a shimmer of light that Duncan saw two of his captors coming toward. He tensed and tried to rise again to no avail. Whatever unseen thing that was holding him down was still in place.  
  
Both drones scanned his body with their augmented arms. "Your resistance is futile," said a drone made up of an older Chinese man. "Your biological resistance will be overcome. You will be assimilated."  
  
"Why?" demanded MacLeod, his dry throat scratching painfully. "Why are you doing this?"  
  
The drones did not answer. They both merely plunged their extended tubules into Duncan's chest to reinject him with new modified nanites.  
  
*****  
  
HIGHLANDER - THE SERIES (1992) - Hugh Fitzcairn - (Roger Daltrey)  
  
*****  
  
Will any of Lee Stetson's group survive? What will happen with Clark and the others? Who is Bobby Hobbes planning to get to communicate with the Wade Welles drone? Who did Miss Parker call and why? What's up with all the Immortals? What do the Borg have planned for the parts of the Roboz? Will I ever be able to keep the whole story together or will I go completely loopy? Hopefully I'll be able to answer these questions and more next time.  
  
*****  
  
Merry Christmas everyone! And have a Happy New Year, too. 


	7. chapter 7

Leela kept herself ahead of the other two young women. She did this to keep them from running into anything dangerous, unfortunately it did not give her much of a chance to do any careful scouting since both Lana and Chloe were in a hurry to catch up with Clark, who himself had run off at super- speed to rescue someone that he had seen with his vision powers.  
  
As she passed a passed a place where the hall she was in intersected with another going north and south. Just beyond that, she could see Clark trying to hold down a woman. Nearby, five still drones were strewn about on the ground. Leela held still as she assessed the situation. She understood that Clark had thrown the drones around the room like ragdolls. But his current behavior, Leela found disheartening.  
  
Lana managed to reach Clark just before Chloe did. "Clark? What's the matter?"  
  
Clark looked up with a deep sadness. Tears streamed down his eyes. "I-I saved her. I got her from the attackers. But she won't stay. She isn't all right. They did something to her."  
  
Behind her, Lana could hear Chloe take in a breath in alarm. "Clark, What's wrong with her skin?" asked Chloe.  
  
Lana looked over at the woman Clark had saved. Her skin was pasty white and had snake-like greyish veins moving under her skin. In spite of herself, Lana gave out a little shriek and stepped away. It was when Clark turned to help her that she saw why Clark had been holding her down. The woman moved like something dead coming to life in a horror movie as she got to her feet. She wore a simple blouse that was just bare enough around the neck to show puncture wounds and a larger congregation of the greyish veins. On the right side of her chest she bore a name tag stating 'Hello, my name is Olivia Benson'.  
  
"Kill her," Leela commanded.  
  
"What?" Clark said, looking at her in disbelief.  
  
"She has been infected. There is nothing we can do for her. She is becoming one of them," she said as she spat at one of the nearby downed drones. "Death is a better fate than the one that they have in mind for her."  
  
"I - do not - kill," Clark answered coldly.  
  
The Doctor's warrior companion surveyed the bodies again as she walked around and could tell that Clark told the truth. While some of the unconscious bodies had broken limbs and severe dislocations, none had died or sustained life threatening injuries. "Very well. I'll take care of it then." Leela's hand shot out, stabbing Olivia, who was starting to walk toward the door leading to the stairs. In Leela's hand was her Janis Thorn, a very poisonous thorn used by her people as a weapon. Olivia Benson froze in position as a result.  
  
Clark was at Olivia's side in a blur. "What did you do to her!" he demanded.  
  
"Paralyzed her for now. It's quite painless." Leela shook her head. Dealing with people that the Doctor calls 'civilized' under extreme situations always left Leela quite frustrated. Their strange views of things were never very simple or clear. More times than not, the 'civilized people' that the Doctor spoke so highly of complicated matters worse than they were. There were times when even the Doctor seemed to become tired of them.  
  
Things became even more complicated when Olivia Benson suddenly fell over onto the ground. Chloe bent down to check her vitals. She looked up at Clark and shook her head sadly. Lana gasped in realization. "She's dead!" Clark exclaimed, looking at Leela accusingly.  
  
"It's more merciful," Leela explained as she started to lean over one of the fallen, unconscious drones.  
  
Clark was at her side at an instant and holding her hand with the Janis Thorn tightly. "You are not killing anyone else!"  
  
"What's going on here?" called out the voice of the Doctor.  
  
The others turned to see the Doctor huffing as he hurried down the hall with K-9 following dutifully behind. Lex Luthor was coming a little slower with Mark Gordon, who was getting rather out of breath. Ezekiel Stone and Kenny were ahead of the Doctor but had stopped to examine one of the fallen drones. Kenny poked at it with his machete much like a kid would poke a stick at a dead frog and Ezekiel was doing his best to not try to discipline him like he would any other child.  
  
"Doctor! She killed a woman!" Clark held up Leela's hand with the Janis Thorn accusingly.  
  
The Doctor shook his head as he closed the distance between them. "Leela, I told you to never-"  
  
"Danger, master," K-9 called out. The little unit speeded forward as it circled around to the front of his master.  
  
The nearby stairwell near the intersection opened up and six Borg drones filed out facing Clark and those near him. The Doctor, on the west side of the hall and in back of the drones, called out to K-9, "Fire, K-9, fire!"  
  
The little computerized companion of the Doctor's fired a volley of destructive energy beams from his nose nozzle, but only managed to destroy two of the drones before the Borg adapted to the weapons being used against it. Still, the drones did not even turn to face them. Their objective seemed to be Leela's group.  
  
"I'll stop them," Clark said as he let go of Leela. He started walking toward them while red beams seemed to scan over him from their eyes. Lana and Chloe hurried in back of Clark and then moved further to be in back of Leela.  
  
Nearby three of the drones that Clark had previously thrown around started to rise to their feet. Kenny yelped in surprise as the one he had been poking at started to move but swiftly removed the drone's head with his machete, by reflex, before it could do anything.  
  
"Clark, I think it's you they want," the Doctor said as he tried to explain. "Your aggressive display against them has brought you to their attention of things to be immediately dealt with. Also, your physiology is unique to them so they will want to add it to their own. It's one of their main directives." One of the rising drone's turned toward the Doctor and his group. "Come to think of it, some of the rest of us have rather unique physiologies, too," the Doctor commented to himself with a touch of worry in his voice.  
  
Ezekiel rushed the drone concentrating on them only to be stunned within a few feet of his goal. Kenny, the boy Immortal, threw his machete in such a manner that would have embedded the blade deep in the drone's chest had the drone not deflected it with it's arm. Kenny's surprise lead him to quickly backpedal away until he bumped into Mark Gordon. K-9 continued to try to blast the drone but the robot dog's efforts were for naught due to the personnel shielding that protected each drone. The drone brought his augmented arm around and fired a disabling shot into little K-9 rendering it inert. Lex and the Doctor gave each other a quick look knowing they were in deep trouble.  
  
Meanwhile, Clark was advancing on the drones in front of him. They had fanned out in front of the young Kryptonian while one of the battered drones struggled to its feet a little behind him. Just a few feet away, the drones, even the battered one, bent down so that their prosthetic arms were resting on the floor. As they raised their arms again, a small thin rod covered in circuitry was revealed imbedded in the floor where the Borg appendages had been. Then, before Clark could even wonder what they were doing, a wall of energy appeared between the rods. It only took him a second to realize that he was trapped like a goldfish an a oddly angled fishbowl.  
  
Clark could hear Lana and Chloe call out to him but he focused his attention on the wall before him. He took off toward the energy barrier at full speed. At the last possible moment he swung hard with his fist to hit it with the transparent obstruction.  
  
Lana and Chloe clung to each other in comfort as the shield in front of them light up in a brilliant display of light caused when Clark hit the energy barrier. Both young women blinked spots out of their eyes in a effort to see what had happened. Inside the enclosed barrier lay a groaning Clark, who was rocking back and forth holding his blackened hand.  
  
Both young women rushed forward, stopping only right before the barrier to call for Clark. It wasn't until the battered Borg unit that was on their side of the barrier got completely to it's feet did Lana and Chloe react to it.  
  
Unfortunately it was too late for them to do anything, whether it be to defend themselves or run away. Luckily, Leela had been raised in a much sterner environment. The leather clad woman from the Sevateem tribe quickly placed herself in front of the intended target of the two women and braced herself. Tubules lashed out but Leela blocked the drone's attempt to inject her. Being close enough, Leela brought her hunting up from underneath the drone's guard and jammed it to the hilt up under its jaw. She pulled it out as quickly as she slid it in with a low grunt. Then she kicked the staggering body in the midst of it's death throws away before it could possibly damage her or the two women the Doctor had told her to protect.  
  
"Omygosh! Omygosh! Omygosh!" Lana repeated into her hands that she held over her mouth. Her eyes wide with shock, fear and horror.  
  
Chloe was also taken aback. Still, her reporter instincts kicked in and she managed to keep her head. While reporters did their best to get to where the action was, they also had self-preservation instincts that would kick in at the last minute to keep them alive so that they could live to report the news. Chloe grabbed Lana and backed away with her to the side of the wall where there was a fake tree set up to add a touch of the outdoorsy effect. There she had them both crouch down to watch and wait.  
  
One of the drones that had entrapped the Kryptonian specimen stepped through the energy barrier as if it wasn't even there. Tubules in the Korean drone's arm extended as it was about to engage it's chosen target. Only the intended victim had other plans.  
  
Clark rolled out of the way with his superspeed. Then while still laying on the floor, he kicked up at the drone, sending the flailing attacker flying back through the transparent shield and into another drone that had been standing by.  
  
Clark was immediately to his feet. He still held his hand tenderly to his side, but he raced around the enclosed space to see if he could now get through the barrier. In two seconds he had ensured himself the he was entrapped as well as before. Whatever means the Borg used to go through the barrier they had set up would not let him through.  
  
Two more drones stepped through the energy barrier. Clark groaned. "Don't you . things learn? I'm not about to let you near-" The two drones fired at Clark, hitting him in the chest. Clark hit the floor hard in a great deal of pain.  
  
"Ooooh, I so don't want to do that again," he muttered with clenched teeth. His head was spinning and lights seemed to flash on and off before his eyes. From somewhere he could Lana and Chloe telling him to get up, to get out of there. He knew he had to do something. Getting up was not an option. And getting through those energy walls was something that Clark wasn't sure how to do yet. But maybe he didn't have to go through them.  
  
Clark lifted up his arms and hit the floor with all his might, following it with other blows, until there was a hole in the floor big enough for him to fall down. He received four more shots in his back from the Borg, but still managed to crawl down the hole he had made into whatever was beneath before the drones could reach him.  
  
The Doctor grappled almost frantically with the drone. He wasn't alone as Lex was struggling to hold the drone's other arm. Doing his best to remember the data the Starfleet doctors had given him, the Doctor used his sonic screwdriver at one of its highest settings. The drone convulsed slightly, then slid senselessly to the floor.  
  
The Doctor breathed a breath of relief. "Well, one done. Only a couple more to go." His breath left him once he saw Lex. The bald young man had all the symptoms of those recently injected with the Borg nanites. Grayish veins were slowly spreading up his neck and face as the body of Lex Luthor slowly fell to the floor.  
  
"What?" Mark almost dropped the body of Ezekiel Stone that he had been dragging. To Stone's credit, the resurrected man seemed to be recovering from the stun beam that had hit him, but was not yet ready to stand on his own. "What happened to Lex?" asked Mark, deeply startled.  
  
"He's one of them now." Kenny answered straight to the point. The youngish looking Immortal was carrying the non-responding K-9 unit, which had little whiffs of smoke rising from it. "What do we do now, oh great and powerful time-lord?"  
  
Looking beyond the sarcastic Immortal, the Doctor could see the other drones turning their attention towards them. "I think it would be to our best interest to run!"  
  
---  
  
Monica and Jonathan stood midst the drones watching Leela leading Lana and Chloe away at a run. In exactly the opposite direction, the Doctor and his group left leaving Lex alone with the Borg. No one threatened the two angels, however. The drones would have attempted to add them to their number if they were allowed to perceive them, though any such attempt would have failed.  
  
"Will Lex recover?" Monica asked the more experienced angel with traces of concern in her voice.  
  
"I do not know."  
  
"But God must have had a reason for Mark reaching out to Lex? He was suppose to show him a new path. Lex was even responding." Monica was vexed. She didn't like it when things took a turn for the worst.  
  
"God's reasons are not for us to always understand. At least not yet." Jonathan wished to ease the frustration that the younger angel was feeling but he only had words right now. He could sense that she wanted something more tangible than that. "You have to have faith, Monica. Even in the midst of all this, God can work miracles that even we can't see yet."  
  
"Oh please stop with all that dribble." The Devil stepped around a drone that could not see him as he walked up to the two angels. His Human form, lecherous in appearance, belied the true malevolent being that was within. "You can't tell me that even in all this death," he waved his hand at the nearby drone that Kenny had decapitated, "and assimilation," he gestured with his other hand at Lex who was being lead away by a drone to the door to the stairs, "that you believe God is truly in control here? If so what kind of God is he to allow things like this to occur? Even I'm not that despicable."  
  
"Aren't you." Monica stood her ground. "You say that you would let everyone do whatever they wanted however they wanted to do it. Just as long as they called you master or didn't turn to the one and only God. But in reality if you were in charge of their lives to the extent you desire, you'd control the lost souls of the world much like the Borg control their drones."  
  
The Devil sneered, but he was amused. "I'm glad I wasn't that transparent when I convinced a number of our brethren to come to my way of thinking." He regarded Jonathan, dismissing Monica with a glance. "You've taught your little protégé well, but that still doesn't excuse God for allowing things like this from happening."  
  
"She's not my protégé. If anyone would be allowed to claim her as that, it would be Tess."  
  
The Devil winced in spite of himself. "That old battle-ax is running around here? And you say that I'm mean?"  
  
"I say that you are evil." Jonathan stepped up close, closing the distance between them. "And as for God allowing this, you know as well as I that God has to allow a number of things to occur for the sake of free will. That doesn't mean that God doesn't care for them. You more than anyone knows what God does to help them through every crisis whether they know it or not."  
  
"Thank Jesus," murmured Monica prayerfully.  
  
"Don't say that name near me!" screamed the Devil. His body visible trembled both in anger and in fear.  
  
"Then leave us."  
  
"Oh, I'll leave. I have to check on a few things of my own." The Devil grinned at the two angels before him to prove he wasn't afraid of them. "But I will be back. You can count on that." He slowly faded from their view leaving only his laughter behind.  
  
The two angels shrugged. Then left themselves. The Devil wasn't the only one that had other things to check on.  
  
*****  
  
Joe let the broken brick pieces fall to the floor. "Wouldn't want to meet whatever came through here." Using his cane, Joe Dawson backed away from the hole inside of the wall. What really surprised him was that whatever it was that had made the hole had been trying to get in and not out.  
  
Stepping closer to the transparent force field that covered the entrance and nearby windows, the gray-haired, bearded Watcher tapped it with his cane and watched it light up as a result. "This can't get much weirder," muttered Joe.  
  
He had been investigating the apparent bizarre kidnapping of Duncan MacLeod as reported by Carl Kolchak. Soon after Connor and he had arrived and began checking out the strange sight of the force field and the man sized hole in the convention center wall, Adam Pierson shows up with Remington Steele. The Watchers hadn't even known that they knew each other.  
  
Adam Pierson was a sore subject for Joe. When he had first found out that the man was an Immortal, he was sure that Adam had been using the Watcher database, which kept track of the whereabouts of all Immortals being watched, to do some selective headhunting. But after checking through the database and checking dates, Joe had been unable to discover any unexplained beheadings when Adam was around. Quite the opposite. Whenever any Immortals were reported nearby, Adam would leave the city, usually under the guise of having uncovered another clue to some of the history of the legendary Immortal, Methos.  
  
Adam's running from danger made Joe want to consider him a coward, but Duncan had insisted that Adam was actually very good with the sword. That left Joe with the conclusion that Adam was after the Immortal holy grail, the legendary quickening of Methos, a five thousand year old Immortal that no one was even sure was still alive or even existed. The uncovering of Methos' trail through history had been Adam's pet project when he had been a part of the Watcher organization. Now some new kid had taken it over but had nowhere near the success that Adam had had. Joe had asked Duncan what he had thought of the probability of Methos being alive after all these years with so many headhunters after him. His Scottish friend just laughed and said some myths are more alive than the people that they are based on.  
  
But now that it was know that Adam is one of the Immortals he was banned from the Watchers. There had even been serious talk of taking his head. Immortals that knew about the Watchers were a considerable taboo subject these days. It had left Joe feeling very awkward and exposed standing next to Connor MacLeod when Adam and Remington had drove up.  
  
Connor had seemed almost eager to instigate a fight, but Joe had reminded him that these were friends of Duncan's and were most likely also here to help him. It was only after Adam pointed out that the convention center had been built on the site of an old church and Connor had bent down to confirm that it was actually holy ground that Connor settled down. Joe had been surprised at that but chalked it up to being another one of those things that you can only learn when you have close contact with an Immortal and not just watch them from a distance.  
  
Remington and Adam seemed to be more than willing to work with the sullen and moody Scot to find his clansman. Remington Steele even made a point to compare them to the three musketeers, much to Joe's amusement. The three Immortals had quickly moved through the opening in the wall. The all knew that time was of the essences if they were to rescue Duncan before the authorities got there and started asking all sorts of awkward questions like why they all had swords. That left Joe, the cripple, to remain behind to his own thoughts.  
  
The growing number of reports of beheadings around the world as well as the unrest that more and more Immortals seem to display in each others presence was confirming Joe's conclusion more and more that the time of the Quickening - the final Game - was coming soon. Soon he found himself contemplating what the end result would be.  
  
The prize that the last surviving Immortal was to receive - what could possibly be worth striving so long against others to win. Some of the theorists in the Watcher organization thought maybe the final survivor of the Game might receive Immortality and the ability to have children. Or maybe have be the ruler of all the Humans of the world - which is one of the reasons that many of the Watchers silently rooted for the MacLeods. Or more likely the last Immortal will have all the abilities and memories from all the Quickenings that had been taken and use them for whatever purpose they want. Joe's own idea was that the whole Game had to do with Good and Evil. He wasn't exactly sure what exactly, but the very fact that Immortals wouldn't take each others heads or even fight each other on holy ground - and those few who tried it resulted in incidents like Pompeii - so as far as Joe was concerned, God had some hand in this, but what the card game was Joe had no idea.  
  
Lost in thought and contemplating the hole in the wall again, Joe didn't hear the drone coming up to him until it was right behind him. The crunching sound of someone coming up behind him alerted him enough to turn to see the black and technologically clad drone on the other side of the force field.  
  
"What are-"  
  
Joe's questions were silenced as the drone stepped through the force field with it's tubules extended.  
  
*****  
  
Fox Mulder pulled the van up as close as he could to the steps that led up what appeared to be a force field covering the windows and doors of the foyer of the convention center. While this was not the only entrance to the building, it was the main one. And from what he could see to the north, a similar barrier had been erected. On the south, the hotel seemed untouched. A number of people were starting to come out with expressions of confusion on their faces, but Mulder judged that they had been spared simply because at the time of the Borg attack more people had been in the convention hall. And from what Mulder could remember the Borg seemed to be driving the people away from the hotel and further into the convention center.  
  
"That wasn't there before," commented Jared.  
  
Galen and his apprentice, Dureena Nafeel, shimmered into view beside the white van. Galen pointed toward the force field. "There are two people, each one is like the two that you brought with you."  
  
Mulder grinned like a banshee out his window at the technomage. "Thought you weren't going to make the trip."  
  
Galen regarded the white van with a little amusement. "Not in that quaint vehicle. We have our own means of travel which are nowhere near as cramped as the space in there. Besides, I prefer to not transport myself in vessels that have explosive devices built into them."  
  
The white van quickly emptied of all its passengers.  
  
Admiral Paris was the first to be able to express his feelings about having such information withheld. "Are you saying that you knowing let us travel in a vehicle with a bomb on board and you didn't tell us?"  
  
Galen shrugged, but was willing to explain. "I did incapacitate it first. But I wished to be able to track any signals that may have been sent to detonate it."  
  
"All right, mistakes were made. From now on everybody keeps everyone else informed, okay?" Mulder didn't wait to see if they agreed with him or not. Sirens and red flashing lights had him reaching for his badge as the first police car to the scene started to pull up. "I'll deal with this. You try to get us inside that building."  
  
Tom regarding the arriving police car. "They sure took their time getting to an event like this. I'd have thought that the local law enforcement and medical personnel would have arrived faster at an incident such as this in the late twentieth century."  
  
"Mulder and I heard on the radio earlier of a fire in the downtown Seattle area," commented Jarod. "That must be where most of the police are at. They probably won't be rushing over too fast because whoever is in charge probably figures that help would be easy to come by in a convention hall full of people with law enforcement experience."  
  
Not far away, Lennier carefully examined the hole in the wall. The Minbari slowly moved his hands over the edge of the entrance as he contemplated it's origin with his eyes closed. "May I help you, Mr. Bester?"  
  
The telepath was impressed in spite of himself. He had been very carefully about not making any noise while coming up behind the Minbari. "Just seeing what has captivated your interest. A very nice hole into this archaic structure."  
  
"The structure is actually quite new," Lennier pointed out. "I'm more interested in whatever object it was that mad this hole. The spread of fragments from whatever made this hole are imbedded in the inner wall. Since there are no signs of an explosion, I must conclude that something hit the wall at an incredible velocity."  
  
"Yeah, whatever," said the telepath while looking around.  
  
"Have you finished scanning the building?" Lennier asked.  
  
Bester frowned. But did not deny it. "Yes, if you must know."  
  
"And what did you find out," he asked, wiping the dirt from his hands.  
  
Alfred Bester sighed, rather bored. "A lot of frightened people running here and there. It was actually very annoying to try get anything that make any sense out of it all." He paused, and made a decision. "There was also something else - something very alien yet not alien - very complex thought pattern that seemed to resonate from many different places. Easy to see but impossible to decipher."  
  
"Most likely that was the Borg that you sensed."  
  
Bester nodded at the conclusion. "Whatever it was they seemed very focused. All the noise from the thoughts I was hearing was giving me a headache."  
  
Lennier turned to regard the Human telepath. "I could teach you some of the techniques that Minbari telepaths use after a rough encounter."  
  
Bester spat. "You think we Human telepaths need your Minbari methods? We are stronger and we are united! We have found out more things on our own about our abilities in the short time that my people have been able to develop them your people have been able to do in thousands of years!"  
  
Lennier bowed his head. "Very well. If you do not wish to share in Minbari methods I will not mention them further to you." Lennier turned back to his study of rubble dispersal.  
  
Bester glowered at the Minbari. The audacity of the bony-ridged alien miffed the Human telepath. He knew he didn't dare do anything that might attract the attention of the others just then, but the others wouldn't always be there.  
  
At the top of the steps, at the edge of the force field, Guinin stood silently, her hand gripped tightly around the phaser-rifle that she carried while looking at the area the drone and it's new abductee had retreated. "Q, if I could shoot you right now, I would. Even though I know that it wouldn't harm you."  
  
"That Q person is responsible for all this?" Montgomery Scott had been standing a little behind the El-Aurian using a tricorder he had modified to scan the Borg barrier.  
  
"You were dragged into all this rather abruptly. Yes, Q is responsible for this mess. And a good number of others."  
  
"Let me guess. He's one of those powerful beings that has a 'god' complex."  
  
Guinin took a second to regard the famous engineer of the Enterprise-A who was known by his nickname, Scotty. "That's about right."  
  
"Yeah, we used to run into those type all the time when I was younger," he commented while still mentally compounding numbers in his head.  
  
"From what I remember of your abilities you could do just about anything with machines." Scotty still didn't look up from his tricorder. "Think you can do something about these barriers?"  
  
"From what I'm seeing in this tricorder, it would be practically impossible."  
  
"So you can't do it."  
  
Scotty finally looked up from his tricorder. "I said it would be 'practically impossible'. That doesn't mean I can't do it. The variance that they are using for this shield configuration may be tough, but it by no means does not mean that I can not take it down. All I need is a little more time. At least an hour."  
  
"That person doesn't have an hour," Guinin mumbled to herself.  
  
"Perhaps we can be of assistance." Galen and his apprentice, Dureena Nafeel, stepped near Guinin to examine one of the staffs the Borg had set up to create the force field barrier. "This device seems to be the most likely place to get the information that we need."  
  
"But it has shielded itself, too, so how do you expect to get at it?" asked Dureena.  
  
"Well, that part is easy." Scotty poked a few more times at his tricorder. "If you can just match the frequency that they are using for their force field, you can walk right through it like it wasn't even there. But the hard part is getting the right frequency."  
  
"Yes, I see what you mean." Galen bent down to examine the slender staff. Then he reached through the transparent barrier and ran his hand up the Borg device as he examined it  
  
"How-" began Scotty.  
  
"Shush," insisted Dureena. "Can't you see that he is concentrating?" Ignoring any other comments that Scotty might have, she attuned herself to watching the technomage at work.  
  
"Fascinating piece of equipment," remarked Dureena's teacher. "I don't think I can turn it off from here but I may be able to salvage something that we can use." He opened up a side panel which was shaped like a rather long, thin rectangle. It has many more features than I would expect in something this size. A micro-generator, energy collectors, a complex sensor array." His hand touched what each part of it was as he named it. "Ah, a communications unit. Yes, that would be very useful to us." Galen extended his other hand into the field as well so that he could remove the device. Guinin and Scotty watched in reluctant wonder.  
  
After giving the communications unit in the staff a tug, Galen quickly pulled his hands away. The area around the field momentarily flared up in bright pink and bluish sparks before turning transparent again.  
  
"What happened," Guinin found herself asking.  
  
"It seemed to sense me. The communication device itself seemed to sense me. If I had not been prepared for the possibility of the variance sequence changing, I'd have never gotten my hands out intact." The technomage seemed very upset over the matter. "But how could it sense me?"  
  
"The Borg are as one with their machines. We were not exaggerating when we told you that." Guinin sent him a look as if to say that he should have known better.  
  
Dureena tapped a careful pattern of her wrist, making only minor adjustment to the pattern that she had seen her teacher tap on his own seemingly bare wrist before attempting to reach through the barrier. All she needed now was a distraction.  
  
"We have to get moving," Admiral Paris said with a frustrated tone. Behind him came his son, Tom, dragging his feet. "I've just been in contact with that nincompoop, the Doctor. He's already brought his team inside instead of waiting for us like he was suppose to."  
  
"Sir, he said that he didn't have much choice," Tom added to the absent Doctor's account.  
  
"And he also said that he had lost over half of his team," criticized the admiral.  
  
"His group got split up. Sir." One of the things that Tom hated about his father was that there were times when the admiral went head to head with someone like the Doctor, who was not very military minded, that he'd become almost childish as he vented his frustration.  
  
"If they had listened to orders, we'd have a better force to-"  
  
"What do you think that you are doing?" Scotty exclaimed in shock.  
  
The others turned as well to where his attention was focused. Dureena already had her hands in examining the Borg technology that Galen had already tried to retrieve.  
  
"Dureena," began Galen in a very quiet voice. "Come away from there. It's very dangerous."  
  
She shook her head. "I've almost got it." She carefully worked with the little tools that she had had in her sleeve. "Almost got it." Finally, the unit was disconnected from the rest of the device and she brought it back through the force field. "Here it is." She held it out for her teacher's inspection. "A technomage can do many things, but some things are still best left up to a thief." Behind her, the shield fluctuated slightly for a moment, then stabilized.  
  
Galen ignored the comment. "You put a relay circuit in it's place so that it wouldn't know that the communication device had been taken."  
  
"Exactly. Standard stuff for people of my former profession."  
  
Galen raised his brow. He didn't think for a second that Durenna had given up being a thief. She placed the device in the palm of his hand. He didn't say anything but he found it to be utterly fascinating. At once he began inspecting the prize and its uses more closely.  
  
After a time of everyone watching the still technomage and his apprentice staring at the small device in Galen's hand, Tom spoke up. "Fox and Jarod are coming. I think we had better get in this place before any more police show up. I doubt Fox will be able to convince everybody in authority to let us in there."  
  
Tom's father looked over at the hole in the wall that the Doctor's team had made. "Very well. The Doctor is probably in the need of rescuing again by now anyway."  
  
*****  
  
Tess fumbled with the keys to find the particular one that she needed for the roof access hatch. She had refused to let any of the men climb the metal ladder steps up to open the hatch. Even though she was an angel, right now she didn't know if the Borg had already taken over the roof or not. Since she more concerned with everyone else's well-being than her own, she was determined to expose herself to danger first. Being an angel she wasn't too worried about herself. She had all these people to help.  
  
She pushed the hatch up and after a little effort, managed to climb up and look around. The early evening air was refreshing and in the distance she could hear the sound of approaching sirens.  
  
"No sign of them up here," she called down to Dana and the others.  
  
Dana patted Gil Grissom on the back. "Go check it out."  
  
Grissom hurried up the ladder, followed by the mysterious woman, Miss Parker, who was armed with a .45. Their job was to check out the perimeter to make sure that they were safe. Their secondary objective was to see if they could find a safe way down for everyone. Lt. Columbo and his wife, Kate, then climbed up the ladder as well. They had volunteered to stay on top to help people as they got to the top.  
  
Dana stayed to the back as people began climbing. She looked back watching and waiting for MacGyver and his people. Dana had done her part. She had gotten the people to the roof; MacGyver's part was to come up with a means of getting them down.  
  
"Dana?"  
  
Dana turned to find John Byers next to her. Oddly, even though the skinny man was not able to offer much in the way of protection, she felt comforted in his presence. "Everything all right, John?"  
  
John gave a look of exhaustion. "Dana, we've been attacked by creatures from another world. Nothing is all right." He let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm sure that Mulder is enjoying this moment. At least more then we are."  
  
She looked back at the people climbing the ladder to see a number of people trying to push an grey-bearded man who was crippled up the ladder. "I think we are at least more comfortable than he is for the moment."  
  
"Dana," John began, but stopped for a moment to shudder. "I don't want to die."  
  
Dana nodded. "I don't want to either. That's why we are going to do whatever we can to survive this."  
  
The door to the stairwell twenty-five from where they were slammed open. Both the FBI agent and the conspiracy theorist jumped at the sound. So did all those that were by the ladder.  
  
"Hey, you think you can give us a little help here," called out Rick Simon, his arms full of cloth as he was pulling the top of a curtain to a stage.  
  
Dana waved over to some of the people who hadn't made it up the ladder yet. Dana and John grabbed a section of the curtain and began lifting it up. They could see A.J. Simon midway down the stairs breathing heavy as he lifted his section.  
  
"Come on, people!" Dana call out, hoping to encourage some of those that had been dragging their feet. "The faster that we do this, the faster we all get out of here."  
  
John leaned in close to ask the question that many people were wondering about. "How is a long, thick curtain supposed to get us off the roof safely?"  
  
Dana shook her head. "I've no idea. Have to ask MacGyver once he gets up here." If he gets here, she thought to herself.  
  
They hefted their load down the hall to where the roof access was. "Do you think that Mulder found any help for Langly?"  
  
Dana let one of the men lifting the curtain up to the roof take her section. "Why don't I call him and find out?" she said, pulling her cell phone out of her purse.  
  
*****  
  
Broots pulled the fire hose to the side so that Doug Penhall could help his brother, Joey, who had been wounded, get past without tripping.  
  
Sydney stood nearby, with a couple gallons of liquid soap. "Do you need a hand?"  
  
"I got him," answered Doug. Joey gritted his teeth and moved the best he could under the circumstances, his side had been hastily wrapped and blood had already bled through in some areas.  
  
"How many more are coming?" Broots asked nervously.  
  
Doug didn't even turn to answer the question, but he did answer it. "I don't know. Five or eight, if you mean our guys. If you mean those creatures, probably twenty or thirty."  
  
"Head up the stairs, then take a right when you get to the top. The others believe they have found a way out that way."  
  
Broots, already sweating, shifted uncomfortably. Sydney had them both behind a counter that had been nearby the fire hose and also, thank God, near an exit to the stairs. While it wasn't the best cover, it did offer some protection.  
  
Broots looked over at Sydney. "I think that we should soap up the area before it's too late."  
  
Sydney frowned, but understood the other man's point, even if it had been created in fear. "We volunteered to do this to give everyone a chance to escape these creatures. I think that should include those that were in the first line of defense." He looked hard into Broots eyes. "We owe it to them to give them a chance to get clear." After all the questionable things they had done in the name of the Centre, Sydney felt he had a lot to atone for. He had already began working on trying to reclaim his humanity and sense of honor by helping to free Jarod from the Centre years ago. Since then he has quietly tried to help the runaway Pretender from within the Centre. He has also tried to reach out to Catharine Parker, who he had watched slowly being corrupted from an early age.  
  
Groaning, Broots settled into his stool. It had been easier to be heroic and volunteer when the Borg were no longer close, but with them closing on their location, Broots began to have regrets. "Do you think that Miss Parker is safe yet?"  
  
"Catharine can look after herself. I'm sure she will be fine." Broots noticed that Sydney didn't mention how they would do. He wasn't about to ask either since it didn't look that good. Besides, they could hear approaching footsteps.  
  
Broots lifted up the fire hose and put the nozzle on the top of the counter ready to fire. Sydney reached over and put a steady hand on Broots's shoulder. "Wait a moment," Sydney said calmly.  
  
"You should put out the soap! It'll work better with the soap!" insisted Broots.  
  
Sydney picked up one of the five gallon buckets that they had filled with liquid soap and any other slippery substance that they could find. Carefully walking around the counter so as not to spill, he headed down the hall to where the sound of running feet were coming from.  
  
"Hurry!" cried out Broots. "Spread it and get to cover!"  
  
Sydney set down the heavy bucket and gestured for Broots to wait a minute. Down the hall, two older men, breathing hard, hurried his way. Lennie Briscoe seemed to be breathing enough for five men, but that did not seem to slow him down or keep him from pulling along the other man, Roger Murtaugh.  
  
"Are there more of you coming?" Sydney asked  
  
Briscoe nodded. Murtaugh didn't even acknowledge Sydney's presence. The black man with the greying hair just kept muttering to himself. "How am I going to tell her? She'll want to see him and he'll be gone. How am I going to tell her? I was suppose to be there for him."  
  
"Everything all right?"  
  
Briscoe just gasped. "Where.others?"  
  
"Up the stairs. They are trying a way out on the roof?"  
  
Briscoe's eyes rolled. "It'd have.to be.stairs."  
  
As Briscoe headed toward the stairs with the barely responding Roger Murtaugh, three more people hurried down the hall. Sydney only recognized one of them. "Mr. Stetson, I take it that you are the last we can expect of friendly faces."  
  
"The Borg are right behind us," answered Lee. "They may not be fast moving but they are persistent. What are you doing down here?"  
  
"Last line of defense," replied Sydney. Then he told them of MacGyver's plan to slow down the Borg. He also began spreading around the liquid or the floor. When they were all behind the counter again, Broots sprayed the floor to make it sudsy as well as slippery, while Lee introduced Sydney to Thomas Hooker and Thomas Magnum. Magnum was still a little disoriented and was sipping a coke that had been set behind the counter.  
  
"We did everything we could to stop them," said Hooker. "But we just slowed them down."  
  
"Hopefully that will be enough to get everybody to safety," commented Magnum.  
  
"If not, then we can slow them down a little more here, right Broots," Sydney said. "Broots, turn off the hose or you'll wash away all the soap."  
  
With some reluctance, Broots turned off the fire hose. But he did not turn from the direction that the Borg was coming. "How long?" he asked.  
  
"Any time now," answered Lee.  
  
Sydney stepped over and took the hose from Broots tense grip. "Go over by the stairs. I've got it from here."  
  
Before Broots could thank him, the first of the drones arrived. The five Humans watched as the head drone stopped in front of the watery area seemingly to consider something.  
  
"Hey, I recognize him," Thomas Hooker said as he pointed to the drone. "That's Jim Rockford. He's a California PI. I met him on the first day of the convention. We were suppose to meet again for breakfast the next morning but he never showed up."  
  
"And now you know why," commented Magnum.  
  
The Borg drone that had been Jim Rockford, raised it's augmented arm. A beam of light went out from the arm and began clearing the area of moisture and soap.  
  
"Oh, now that's not fair," remarked Magnum.  
  
"Then let's fix it." Sydney hoisted the fire hose. Taking aim, he unleashed the water pressure built up in the hose on the drones just fifteen feet away. The Jim Rockford drone was knocked back into those behind him, knocking five altogether off their feet.  
  
"Now you have to try something different," advised Lee.  
  
"I think this is working just fine," Sydney said, aiming for some of the drones further back.  
  
"You don't understand," Lee said. "You haven't faced them. They can't be defeated the same way twice. At least not for very long."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Before Sydney could question him any further, he noticed that the drones that he sprayed with the water were no longer falling down. The newer ones coming down the hall didn't even seem to be getting wet. One of the drones fired, and Sydney fell senselessly to the floor behind the counter.  
  
Broots leaped onto the flailing fire hose before it could hurt anyone and he shut it off. "What now?" he asked to the others huddled behind the counter.  
  
Lee Stetson and Thomas Hooker were picking up Sydney's body off the floor. Thomas Magnum grabbed one of the remaining gallon buckets of soap. "I say we give your original plan a try."  
  
"What?" cried out Broots. "They dried it out before they even stepped in it."  
  
"Then spray it under their feet!" Magnum said as he hoisted another bucket out onto the floor in front of the drones.  
  
Broots almost froze. Then he saw Sydney dangling between Stetson and Hooker. If I do this I could save him, he thought. I could save them all. Opening the valve, Broots aimed the spout of water at the spilled contents of the bucket. While shouting and attempting to weave around so as to be a harder target, he used the water to push the soapy substance around the floor and closer to the approaching drones.  
  
A number of the drones did slip; some even fell as a result. Broots watched out of the corner of his eye as Hooker and Stetson headed up the stairs carrying the burden of an unconscious Sydney. Magnum had tossed over the rest of the chemicals that they had planned on using, leaving no more ammo for Broots to you. "Now what," he yelled over the noise of the hose.  
  
Magnum looked around. "There!" he pointed. "An electrical outlet!"  
  
Broots gave a quick burst of water there, then immediately shut of the water before it made contact. The drones jerked a little at the electrical current in the water but were otherwise unharmed.  
  
"What now?" asked Broots. But before he could find out the answer to that, he had been stunned by one of the Borg.  
  
*****  
  
Claire Keeply stared in horrific wonder at the gland that had been such a major part of her life. It only made matters worse that she had been part of the team to take it out of Darien's head.  
  
Darien was dead now. Decapitated even. He had been so lively a personality and overcome so much that she had almost thought he'd survive anything. Of course, alien invaders had not been one the things that she had factored into that equation.  
  
She knew Bobby had felt guilty about Darien's death. He had actually purposefully left himself open when she hit him in the face when she found out how Darien had died. Shortly after that he had gotten a phone call from one of those shadowy government figures. Evidently Hobbes had contacted some of this fellow 'Archangel's' special ops without his approval. He had sounded even more upset that his special ops was actually responding to Bobby's call even though Bobby hadn't any authority for a mission.  
  
Claire didn't care about that. What she did care about was Darien's legacy, which was also Darien's brother's legacy. The gland lay on a white platform where the strangely attired Dr. Bashir had somehow removed all the greyish veins that had come to infest it. He had also said that he should be able to implant the gland without much trouble. He even said he should be able to implant safeguards so that would stop quicksilver madness from ever happening again with use of the gland. And even though he didn't say it, he seemed impressed with the quicksilver abilities that the gland would provide to it's host.  
  
Dr. Bashir had been very understanding of her grief. He had offered to do the procedure of removing the quicksilver gland without her after asking her a few relevant questions about it. She had declined. In spite of herself, she found the doctor and his futuristic tools fascinating, though she still found that she often had tears blocking her view. She was determined not to break down now. She would make all this count for Darien's sake, then she would have a long cry when she can afford it.  
  
Julian Bashir seemed like such a regular person that she would have never guessed that he was from some futuristic parallel world, but his uniform and super-scientific tools more than supported that explanation. His companion, Garak, a reptilian humanoid, reminded her of some of the special agents that she had run into over the years. James Bond, Napoleon Solo, John Steed, Michael Knight, Ethan Hunt, Matt Helm. Arrogant, witty, and oh so sure of themselves. Yet this Garak seemed to have a more, dare she say it, human side that he would show from time to time. When the pastor of the church that were using first saw Garak he had thought it was some Hollywood costume. When he found out otherwise, Pastor Kenton Powell tried to cast him out as a demon. Needless to say, that didn't work. The Cardassian spent a while telling Kenton of where he was from and why they were there. It didn't take long for Kenton to admit to having watched a lot of the Sci-fi channel. After that, Kenton spent most of his time sitting on the steps of the church with Frank Parker to encourage the more insistent of the curiosity seekers to leave well enough alone. Meanwhile, Garak had taken to discussing conspiracy theories with Frohike as a distraction while the nanites were being purged from his fellow Lone Gunmen, Langly's body.  
  
"Dr. Bashir?" she asked.  
  
Julian looked over at her.  
  
"Will we be able to clean out the metallic invaders from Ms. Welles body as well as Mr. Langly's?" she asked, as a means to distract herself.  
  
He sighed. "They are called nanites. And I dare not until I can get her mentally stabilized. But your friend, Mr. Hobbes, stated that he could provide us with the means to do so shortly. I believe that was what most of those calls he made were about," he stated as almost an inquiry.  
  
I have no idea how he's going to keep that promise either, Claire thought to herself. "Bobby has lots of contacts in his line of business. If he says that he can provide something, he usually can."  
  
"That's good," he said. He took a moment to run the tricorder over Darien's gland during which Claire tensed. "Everything seems fine here."  
  
"Any reason it shouldn't?"  
  
"I have it in a mild form of stasis," he explained. "But it will still have to be transplanted into someone in the next twenty-four hours. Or it won't work at all. The gland will die and it's abilities will benefit no one."  
  
In spite of herself she looked to the door where Pastor Powell had taken Darien's head after the gland had been removed. "Then we have to find someone to put it into. Someone that can be trusted not to misuse the power to turn invisible."  
  
"Mr. Hobbes didn't tell you?"  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
Dr. Bashir's eyebrows rose in surprise. "He agreed to provide me with someone that could help Ms. Welles if I put the quicksilver gland in his body."  
  
She stood there, just barely trembling. "Of course," she said through clenched teeth.  
  
"Uh, I take it that he hasn't conferred with you about that?"  
  
She didn't answer. She headed for the door outside. She pushed hard on the door causing it to slam into the chair which Frank Parker was sitting in. Frank winced in pain and made a grab for his wounded shoulder. Pastor Powell hurried up from where he was sitting on the steps.  
  
"Sorry," Claire managed to say. "Where's Hobbes?"  
  
"He's clearing the area so that a helicopter can land," Frank said with gasping breaths. "He and a ex-cop, a Marty Crane, who was walking his dog. Marty volunteered to lend a hand."  
  
She saw the old man walking with a cane and leading a small dog on a leash waving back some onlookers. Finally, her eye fell on Bobby Hobbes several yards away looking up into the night sky. She looked up for a second but saw nothing so she hurried over toward him. Suddenly the winds picked up everywhere. As she went for cover under a nearby tree she managed to make out the outline of a black sleek helicopter coming in for a landing. The first thing that Claire noticed was that it was the quietest helicopter she had even seen. The second was that it appeared to be the most advanced; way ahead of anything she had seen the military operating with.  
  
One of the pilots, an older man, quickly got out of the craft and opened up one of the side doors for passengers to disembark. A tall woman with long blond hair stepped out of the aerial transport bending down low. A man in a suit stepped out behind the woman and followed her a little ways from the chopper before straightening up. Claire had her anger flair up anew as she recognized the devious, hard-playing Oliver Sampson, one of those men whose reputation stated that he was more concerned with his own agenda than the well-being of those he worked with. Albeit, she hadn't heard of him in quite a while, word that had gotten around was that he had become focused on a project he had been placed in charge of and put that above his other tasks.  
  
The small dog was straining at it's leash as it barked at the helicopter. The blond woman smiled and headed over to the man with grey hair holding the dog back. Oliver watched her go but made his way toward Bobby Hobbes. Claire reached him first however.  
  
"When were you going to tell me?" demanded Claire.  
  
"What? I needed to contact Sampson so that the female drone could be saved," he explained with open arms.  
  
"Not that. That you plan to have Darien's quicksilver gland put in you. Did you really think that I would let you just take his legacy like that? Does Borden even know about this?"  
  
A hurt look crossed his face. "Darien may have been just a common thief before he had his brother's gland put in, but because of the responsibilities put upon him he grew to become quite a man. And that I respect. And that is the legacy I'd like to continue on for him." He lowered his eyes. "I didn't think you would be against me having the gland. If you don't want me to have it, I won't."  
  
Claire cursed herself mentally. It was just possible that Hobbes had meant to tell her but had been to busy with everything to do so. If he really had wanted to hide the fact, he wouldn't have had her working so closely with Dr. Bashir in the first place. "No. You are probably as good a person as anyone for the gland."  
  
Bobby put a finger under her chin and lifted her head up. "Still friends?"  
  
"Yeah, I suppose," she said, grabbing him into a hug. "At least until the next emotional crisis."  
  
"Are the display of emotions over?" intruded Oliver Sampson. "I'd really like to see some evidence of these futuristic wonders that Mr. Hobbes has promised in return for our time and energy here."  
  
Claire gripped Bobby's arms hard. "Just what did you promise to give him, Hobbes?"  
  
"Easy, Keeply." He smiled graciously to Oliver but pulled Claire a few feet away and began speaking with her in hushed tones. "I offered him some of the Borg parts that the good Dr. Bashir is already taking off that Welles woman. And don't go all ballistic about me giving away alien technology. Once the military get a hold of some of the defeated drones in the Rosemont Center, they few items that we hand over to Oliver will seem like nothing."  
  
Claire looked doubtful. "But how can he help?" she whispered her inquiry.  
  
"He can't." He pointed over to the pretty blond woman petting the dog of the man with a cane. "She, however, is another story altogether." He regarded Claire's expression for a moment. "And by the way, let's try not to mention the quicksilver gland around our dear friend Oliver. The fewer people that know who has the gland the better. Agreed?"  
  
At that she was very willing to agree. Before they could continue further, the pilot of the sleek, black helicopter came forward.  
  
"Been a while, Bobby," the tall thin man said in greeting. Claire found his voice and manner to be gruff, but welcoming. The co-pilot, an older man with whitish-grey hair, hurried over in a much more camaraderie manner. "Bobby, you remember Dominic Santini?" the pilot asked.  
  
"It hasn't been that long," said Bobby as he reached out a hand to shake. "Though I thought I had heard that he had died?"  
  
"Ha! The reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated!" Dominic laughed cheerfully at his own joke. "And who might this beautiful, young lady be?" said Dominic, insisting on an introduction.  
  
"Where's my manners," Bobby said, feeling some of the depression that had been weighing on him lift for the moment while in the midst of old friends. "This is Claire Keeply. Claire, meet Dominic and Stringfellow Hawke."  
  
She shook their hands. "Quite a aircraft you have there."  
  
"Airwolf is the most beautiful thing in the air, with or without wings," bragged Santini.  
  
"Airwolf. I've heard that name before." Claire thought for a second. "You were based in the southwest somewhere." She looked at Airwolf again. "You travel faster than I thought you could if you were to fly from down there to all the way up here from the time that Hobbes called you."  
  
Stringfellow shook his head. "Our base is secret. Not even Hobbes or Sampson knows where we keep Airwolf. A couple years back our location was discovered so we had to relocate. Hobbes convinced us to move up to the northwest."  
  
Oliver Sampson intruded on the group. "I'm sure this reunion is just doing wonders for everyone but I didn't come all this way for a friendly pow-wow session."  
  
"As much as I hate to agree with him, Sampson has a point," Bobby said. "If you gents could stay and keep the locals from intruding on us, I'd be grateful. We are going to be doing some rather delicate procedures in the church."  
  
Dominic and Stringfellow agreed. Oliver called over the blond woman and they made their way up to the church.  
  
*****  
  
Time for some explanations. Yes, I am making Lex Luthor a drone. But I have a plan. Trust me.  
  
Yes, I also have Joe Dawson in the process of becoming a drone. Don't hate me.  
  
No, I do not plan to have a winning for the Immortal Game in my story. I am trying to refer to it's nearing conclusion with the Immortals feeling more aggression when in close proximity with each other. But they also must respect that rule about not attacking each other on holy ground (you know that rule that a number of director's have chosen to ignor).  
  
Yes, I talk a lot about God in my story. God's a reality. I just couldn't imagine a world where God didn't exist or where God wasn't Ruler and Maker of everything. God makes to much sense and the thought of a world where God does not exist does not make any sense at all to me. Besides, God plays a big part in this story which you will see and read later.  
  
I was originally having Oliver and Sydney from VR.5 be brought in by Michael Knight in KITT 2000. But a number of people have been suggesting that I bring in Airwolf so I used them instead. See! I do listen to those that send reviews to me.  
  
For those that don't know about VR.5, Sydney discovered some secret experiments that her deceased father had been working on that allowed her call someone up and enter their subconscious while on the telephone with them. I figured that this would be a most interesting way to help Wade Welles. Oliver Sampson was the semi-devious secret organization man that she ended up dealing with, though reluctantly on her part. Oliver Sampson was played by Anthony Head who you have also seen as Rupert Giles on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
  
If you are wondering about Pastor Kenton Powell, I just used the name of a friend of mine. We did go to Bible college together though and he does hope to get a pastoral position soon.  
  
Finally, I did not forget poor Duncan. You will read more about him in the next posting.  
  
If you have any questions, please write and I will do my best to answer.  
  
*****  
  
LAW & ORDER: SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT (1999-2002) Olivia Benson - (Mariska Hargitay)  
  
THE ROCKFORD FILES (1974-1980) Jim Rockford - (James Garner)  
  
THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E. (1964-1968) Napoleon Solo - (Robert Vaughn)  
  
THE AVENGERS (1961-1969) John Wickham Gascone Berresford Steed - (Patrick Macnee)  
  
KNIGHT RIDER (1982-1986) Michael Knight {alias of Police Det. Michael Arthur Long} - (David Hasselhoff)  
  
MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE (1996) Ethan Hunt - (Tom Cruise)  
  
Matt Helm - (Dean Martin)  
  
FRAISER (1993-Present) Martin 'Marty' Crane - (John Mahoney) Eddie the dog  
  
VR.5 (1995) Sydney Bloom - (Lori Singer) Oliver Sampson - (Anthony Head)  
  
AIRWOLF (1984-1986) Stringfellow Hawke - (Jan-Michael Vincent) Dominic Santini - (Ernest Borgnine) Michael Coldsmith Briggs 'Archangel' - (Alex Cord)  
  
**************** 


	8. chapter 8

Duncan laid back in frustration. He was cold from lying on his back, practically naked. He had heard distant noises a while ago. They sounded like explosions, but he wasn't certain. He had called out and tried to move out from his invisible restraints to no avail. No one came to his aid. And no one came to stop the atrocities that kept happening to the people all around him. He felt impotent, especially when they brought in his friend and sometimes reluctant ally, Joe Dawson.  
  
Joe had been led in by one of the cybernetic men and placed on one of the far tables just in Duncan's range of vision. Joe's skin showed the signs of being interwoven with the cybernetic system, just as they had been putting into Duncan.  
  
The Highlander banged his head on the table he was forceably reclined on. A Gaelic curse escaped his lips as he noticed another drone aiding a new victim onto the table next to his. In spite of his predicament, he noted that the young man was bald and better dressed than most of those that had been placed there before. An old, big boned woman, whom Duncan suspected of being a chef from what remained of her clothing, came and took over the process of seeing the young man converted and refitted into his new place as a drone, beginning with a shoulder guard that seemed to clamp directly into the flesh.  
  
Meanwhile, the drone that had just led in the latest victim turned to regard MacLeod. Duncan stared in disbelief as he had never seen a Ferengi before. The creature was short by Human standards but had massive earlobes, a wide blunt nose and thin, jagged teeth that would have been a dentist's nightmare. Other than those features, the creature bore all the same cybernetic devices the others wore.  
  
"Your resistance to assimulation in pointless. You will be one with the Borg," spoke the borgified Ferengi.  
  
Resistance? he thought. I haven't been able to do anything except let my body heal itself from whatever it is they keep putting in me. "Why are you doing this?" the four hundred year old Immortal asked, doubting he would get an answer.  
  
"Your body has proved to be highly resilient to the nanite restructuring. You have demonstrated an ability to break down and absorb the nanites while restoring your body to its original parameters. Not even Species 8472 has been able to fully accomplish this."  
  
"I don't suppose that means you are going to just let me go, right?"  
  
The Ferengi Borg drone said nothing. Instead, he turned and used his one remaining hand to take a small backpack device from a female Chinese drone. The Ferengi turned back to regard Duncan for a moment, the red beam from his prosthetic eye tracing over his chest. "This device will continue to reinsert new nanites into your system. Your body will not be able to prevail against us any further. You will be assimilated."  
  
"Now wait a minute. We should talk…"  
  
The tubules in the Ferengi drone's arm extended. A quick thrust into MacLeod's chest ended all further conversation.  
  
*****  
  
Connor was agitated. He didn't like staying in close contact with Immortals that he didn't know, even if they were friends that Duncan had mentioned in passing. He had marked up Remington Steele as annoying with his constant movie references. Connor felt sure that the New York detective had to be under a century old, but didn't give much for his chances of making past two centuries. Adam Pierson, however, really brought up the red flags for Connor. Adam gave off the general appearance of being laid back and easy going, but for Connor it seemed more like the relaxed lithe mannerisms of a leopard prepared to spring on him at any time.  
  
The only reason that Connor kept their company was because they were also looking to help find Duncan. Joe Dawson's Watcher contact, Carl Kolchak, had traced Duncan and his abductors to the convention hall. With all that had ocurred at the hall that night, it only made sense to Connor that Duncan would be right in the middle of it all.  
  
Everywhere they went there were signs of a fight. But there were no bodies anywhere. Spots of blood could be seen in a few places, but there were no signs of major blood loss.  
  
"You know, this reminds me of that Aliens movie.1986. Sigourney Weaver. A military strike force is sent in to discover what had happened to a group of planetary terraforming colonists who had disappear. Aliens had used the colonists as hosts for…"  
  
"You're not helping the situation," Adam commented grimly from where he stood next to a drinking fountain.   
  
"Sorry," Remington shrugged. "Habit."  
  
Connor raised his head from where he had been examining some strange milky gray substance on the floor. "We are about to have guests."  
  
All three drew their swords.  
  
"All for one, and one for all," Remington said to break the tension.  
  
Connor glared back at him. "There can be only one," he said dryly. He didn't like this situation at all and this youngster's constant attempts to lighten the situation was wearing thin for him.  
  
Methos sighed. "Can't you ease up just a little?" At the scorning look that Connor shot his way, Methos just sighed again. "I can't see how you could be related to Duncan."  
  
"Same clan, different vintage," responded the Scottish Highlander, taking his place to the side of the door, sword held ready to use. The other two became silent. They moved out of view from the door and poised to fight.  
  
Two figures came through the door in a obvious hurry. The larger of the two was dragging along his companion with one arm holding him up. At the sight of three people surrounding him suddenly, the big man with a mustache let his partner drop to the floor and lashed out with a quick kick.  
  
Connor managed get his sword out of the way of the foot, gave a quick grab with his free hand and pulled hard on the man's ankle. The off-balance man went down hard on his backside. He sat still for a moment, getting his bearings.  
  
The Highlander knew immediately that the two men had been running from something. Both were covered in sweat from exertion. The smaller, balding man was unconscious, which explained why the bigger man had been carrying him along but not how he got that way. The bigger man wore a Hawaiian short-sleeved shirt and was looking up in astonishment at the three men wearing various light trenchcoats and pointing swords at him.  
  
"Hey, wait a minute! I recognize him!" Remington suddenly said. "He was there when those Borg creatures attacked everyone!"  
  
The man in question regarded Remington more closely. "And you were the one attacking them with a sword." He eyed the similiar weaponry in the three men's hands. "I see that type of defense is catching on." Remington held a hand out to him and the man accepted help to his feet. "Name's Thomas Magnum. Yours?" he asked.  
  
"Remington Steele. To my right, the man with the piercing eyes is Connor MacLeod. To my right, Meth…" A sudden dangerous look from Methos stopped the words in Remington's throat. "Ah, Adam Pierson, a new acquaintance of mine," he managed to say. Unconsciously, his free hand went to his shirt collar and pulled gently at it as if it suddenly felt to constricting. Connor's eyebrows raised a little in query but said nothing.  
  
"Who's your friend?" Methos asked, as a means of changing the subject.  
  
Magnum looked down at the still form of the man he had been carrying. "He's called Broots. Just met him, so I don't know if that is his last name or some kind of nickname." He bent down over the man in question to check on him, then looked up at his recent attackers. "Someone want to give me a hand with him? Those things may still be after us. And I don't think you want to meet them with just swords. Even if you are as good as he is," he said, indicating Remington Steele.  
  
Remington passed his sword to his left hand; went to help. "He is right," he commented to his Immortal companions. "We don't want to meet these things head on. Our best chance would be to find a way around them to get to Duncan."  
  
"If you are looking for a friend of yours and the Borg got to him, he's as good as lost," Magnum said candidly.   
  
"You don't know our friend," Connor said in a dark, dangerous tone.  
  
Thomas looked from Connor to the sword that the Immortal carried. "Maybe I don't, but his chances aren't good from what I've seen."  
  
"First things first. We have to get around the Borg," Methos said. "And I think I might have an idea how."  
  
"But aren't you going to help us get out of here," Magnum asked, indicating himself and the unconscious Broots.  
  
"You are on your own," said Connor. "Just follow that hall down, take a right at the restrooms, continue until you get to where it T's off and take a left. Continue down until you find a big hole in the wall that will lead you outside."  
  
Grunting his thanks, Magnum took off with his living burden. The three unhelpful men with swords presented an interesting mystery to the island detective. But all the man wanted at the moment was to find someplace nice and dull. And above all, safe. Only until he found such a place would he be willing to ponder the bizarre behavior of the three swordsmen.  
  
*****  
  
The world swirled and swayed around him as he tried to remain on his feet. Clark kept one hand on the wall as he stumbled down the underground maintenance tunnel. He had passed some signs that directional information but he could have cared less at the moment.  
  
All that was important to him at the moment was to keep moving and stay away from the finds that had hurt him. His chest and back hurt from where the drones had shot him. Twice he thought he had heard his parents calling him, but whenever he turned to the sound all he saw was an empty tunnel.  
  
Thinking of his parents started him thinking how he would like to be back home in Smallville. Enjoying the comfort of his 'fortress of solitude' that he had in the loft of the barn. Perhaps Lana would even come over to visit.  
  
He stopped cold in his tracks. Lana couldn't come over to visit him because she was somewhere in this horrible place. Chloe and Lex, too.  
  
He began trying to look for them with his x-ray vision. When it didn't work like he wanted it to he shook his head for a second and rubbed his eyes. "Come on, Clark. You can do this. You have to."  
  
He tried using his vision powers again with some success. The way he was going turned out to be one of a number of tunnels that lead directly to the main congregation of Borg drones. He couldn't tell what all the machinery was for, having never seen anything like it before. But since he couldn't make any sense out of it and it wasn't what he was looking for and he turned away.  
  
He caught himself as he walked into a wall. He gently rested his forehead against the brick as he took deep soothing breaths.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move. The wounded man lashed out before he thought, hitting a body and throwing it hard into one of the brick walls where it bounced off and fell to the floor.  
  
Clark blinked his eyes to focus. Then looked at what he had hit. A drone laid still on the floor, a puddle of a white grayish substance began forming around it.  
  
"Oh no," Clark whispered, horrified. "I must have blacked out for a minute for it to get that close to me." He checked around for any other drones, but only spotted another infected victim, the drone had evidently been taking somewhere.  
  
The prospective drone was evidently in his late fifties or early sixties, and a little out of shape as evident to the paunch he carried above his belt. His hairline looked to have been receding for years. His face seemed kind, which made the whole situation sadder to Clark. He saw the name tag was hanging half off. Clark reached over to straighten it so that he could read it. It read Stan Wojciehowicz.  
  
"Stan, I wish I could do for you what Leela did for that other drone… but I just can't kill you." The young Kryptonian fell to his knees with his back to the wall, both in exhaustion and frustration. "I don't know if you can hear me, Stan, but I don't know what to do for you." He took a couple of more deep breaths. "I don't even know what to do for myself."  
  
Stan didn't say anything, but just stood there waiting.  
  
Clark sighed. Gently holding his head. Despair and darkness began to form all around him. All his great strength seemed to quickly flow from his body.  
  
A far off cry came to his sharply attuned ears. His head jerked up. Lana? Again, he heard Lana call out to him in utter terror. Before he knew what he was doing, Clark was off and running.  
  
Stan Wojciehowicz stood their waiting. But he didn't have to wait long before another drone came to retrieve him.  
  
*****  
  
BARNEY MILLER (1975-1982)  
Stan Wojciehowicz - (Max Gail)  
*****  
Author's notes and apologies  
-  
It's been over two months since I've been able to write. Life's been way to busy lately. I've started a new job which is at night, had some health problems, had to move twice, and I'm also working with kids at church on my weekends. Plus, I've just completed six months of marriage which is still in its honeymoon phase (may the honeymoon last forever!).  
  
I've only just got a chance to write recently and well I know it is not as voluminous as I usually make my stories, I felt that I should at least give out what I have because everybody's been waiting so long.  
  
And I am getting closer to the wrap up. Expect to see more of what's going on with Wade Welles next posting. Also more on Lex Luthor and the Borg (can anyone guess where I am going with this?) I'm also planning to have an Immortal battle to the death - beheading included - next but I don't think anybody is going to guess who gets it - the beheading and the quickening. I'm also planning to have another fatal Immortal battle closer to the end of this story. Any guessers on that one. I probably shouldn't have given all that info away but I feel bad about not having posted for so long.  
  
As for Stan Wojciehowicz from the show BARNEY MILLER, I had originally planned to use him as one of the main detective characters but it was just getting too full of people for people to understand what was going on. So out of necessity I excluded him because most people would not have known who he was anyway even though I really liked him. But because I had wanted to use him before, I put him in here for a short cameo appearance. My wife thinks it's cool that I have Remington Steele meeting Thomas Magnum - but they were more popular figures and not as far back ago as BARNEY MILLER.  
  
Please send reviews. I could use the fuel it gives me.  
  
Charlie  
ordinaryguy2@Juno.com 


	9. chapter 9

The time-lord hurried down the hall in great agitation, his fedora hat perched precariously on his head. Nothing was working out as planned. He glanced down at K-9, the faithful little robotic dog he carried in his arms. Whiffs of smoke slowly curled out from beneath the scorch marks on K- 9's sides. The Doctor had serious concerns about his robotic companion's current status. Not that he had any real opportunity to review the matter at that moment. He was rather glad that sparks had stopped flying out of one the gaps in K-9's neck.  
  
"Doctor, where are the others?" asked Zeke, groggily. Mark Gordon helped the resurrected former-policeman as they hurried along, but Ezekiel was quickly regaining his senses and footing.  
  
"We were separated," the Doctor explained brusquely.  
  
"They shot you with some type of laser beam," Kenny interjected. "It didn't cut into you or anything. Just knocked you out." The boy-Immortal hurried along in front of the other, machete tightly gripped in his right hand.  
  
Zeke noticed Mark was not speaking. "I think I can stand now," Zeke said to the man helping him. Mark made sure Zeke was able to stand by himself, but didn't leave his side. "What else happened?" Zeke asked Mark.  
  
A look of sadness and guilt crossed Mark's grizzled face. "They got Lex." He almost choked on the words. "I let down Lex, Jonathan and even the Big Guy -- and whatever he had planned for Lex."  
  
"We were all there," pointed out Ezekiel. "There was nothing any of us could do."  
  
Kenny stopped where he was, turning to the others. "So now what do we do?" he asked, expressing what they were all beginning to think of now that they had gotten far enough away from the Borg.  
  
The Doctor grimaced. "What we should have done in the first place, I suppose. We regroup with the team from Starfleet."  
  
*****  
  
Lana grabbed for Chloe's shoulder in terror. The blonde teenager shrugged off Lana's hand. She focused her efforts on trying to get a cabinet door open, hoping to find a weapon of some sort.  
  
The reason for Lana's plight became very apparent; they had somehow gotten themselves backed into a corner with three drones advancing on them. Leela had placed herself between the two young ladies and the drones. Even though the leather-clad huntress held a razor sharp knife in one hand and a poisonous thorn in the other, Lana wasn't much comforted.  
  
Lana was furious with herself for letting her curiosity and feelings for Clark drag her into this bizarre, horrifying adventure. She blamed doctor what-ever-his-name-was with the awful hat for bringing them here. She even wished Clark had never come to Earth with the Kryptonite meteor shower. She tried to blink that last thought away. She needed Clark now more than ever. If only he was with them now!  
  
"Clark! You have to help us! Clark!" she hollered to the walls.  
  
"Don't just stand there yelling! Find something to fight with!" Taking her own advice, Chloe grabbed a phone behind the desk, ripped out the cord, then chucked the whole thing at one of the nearing drones.  
  
The drone merely raised his augmented arm slightly. A beam of light hit the airborne phone speeding towards him, disintegrating it instantly.  
  
Leela, being the oldest and most experienced, motioned for the girls attention. "When I give the word, run for all you are worth," Leela whispered back at Lana and Chloe. "I'll distract them and give you a chance to run for safety."  
  
Chloe looked at Leela as if she had grown a second head. "Are you crazy? Did you see what they did to that phone? They have us and they know it! There is no place to run!"  
  
"Just do it," hissed Leela. "And be sure to take the other one with you."  
  
Chloe quickly checked on Lana. She didn't look good. It appeared she was about to go into a full blown panic attack. Not that Chloe blamed her. She wanted to do the very same thing, but didn't have the luxury of time just then. "Lana? Lana, pull it together. We."  
  
"No, we need Clark! You saw all the super-powered things he could do! We need him! Clark! Clar."  
  
The floor beneath the three drones erupted just as they got close to the three women. The drones were thrown about, falling to the hard tile floor. They did not rise.  
  
Leela, Chloe, and Lana huddled together as the dust settled. They could just make out the figure of a young man standing there by a hole in the middle of the floor, surveying the area. As the dust calmed, they could see the imposing figure he made. Lana's mind half wondered what the man would look like in a cape. He turned to regard them and took a step. Then fell to the floor.  
  
A cry caught in her throat. Chloe beat her to Clark's side by a second. The young brunette watched in fearful anticipation as Chloe checked the vital signs of the young man they had grown up with.  
  
"He's not breathing," Chloe managed. She struggled to move Clark into a position where she could perform CPR. While Chloe attempted to breathe life back into Clark, Lana stared at the burn marks on Clark's chest. While the skin appeared blackened, the only other damage seemed to be chapped skin. His shirt, however, had not been as lucky.  
  
A gasp from one of the drones drew Lana's attention, forcing her to watch Leela finish killing the unconscious drones. The dangerous huntress glanced over at them. Seeing that Chloe was administering assistance to Clark, the leather clad woman headed down the hall to check for anymore drones. Bile rose in the Smallville girl's throat as she turned away from the small pools of white and gray that began forming around the drone bodies. She desperately focused on Clark and Chloe. Chloe had a good rhythm going, pushing down on his chest to keep the blood flow moving, then performing mouth-to-mouth recitation. At one point, Chloe seemed to tense and even stop as she was breathing into Clark.  
  
"Is he.. Is he. Oh, please say he isn't."  
  
"No," responded the short-haired blonde. "He's going to be fine, I think." She leaned up and Lana could more clearly see Clark's chest rising and falling on it's own as he breathed. "I was doing mouth-to-mouth and he." Chloe seemed to blush a little. "He kissed me. I -- He just -- I mean, I could see that he was definitely breathing after that. I can barely say the same for myself." She fanned herself, suddenly feeling overheated.  
  
Lana wasn't amused. Not that she could accuse Chloe of anything. Chloe wasn't to blame for Clark kissing her. She couldn't even blame Clark, since he'd been unconscious. Besides, she was suppose to be going out with Whitney. Wasn't Whitney the one that she wanted?  
  
Leela hurried back, pushing an abandoned wheelchair. "Get him in here, quick! We must leave before more of them creatures come."  
  
"She's right," Chloe agreed, getting an arm under Clark. "Those things probably heard Clark coming through the floor and will be coming to investigate."  
  
"Didn't you listen when the Doctor explained the Borg to you?" chastised the huntress. She moved to get Clark's other arm. "The Borg are all connected. What one drone sees they all see."  
  
"Then the rest of them already know that you killed the ones that had us trapped here!" Lana cast her eyes down the halls, fear plain on her face. "They will be coming to attack us again!"  
  
Chloe ignored Lana's rising panic, focusing on Clark. "He's heavier than I thought," groaned Chloe, working to lift the awkward, unconscious body.  
  
Leela used a free foot to steady the wheelchair as they eased Clark into it. "I've noticed that some of those born on other worlds are heavier and denser than you and I."  
  
Chloe took a moment to straighten Clark's hair. "Funny. Even with all the powers he has, I keep forgetting that he's an alien."  
  
Seeing Chloe run her fingers through Clark's hair stirred something within Lana. Lana reached out and readjusted one of his curls. "And he secretly kept helping us without trying to get any of the glory."  
  
"That's what makes him a hero," Leela stated flatly. She wasn't used to dealing with teenage girls. They were harder to understand than the Doctor at times. "Now let's rescue him and get him out of here."  
  
*****  
  
Amanda hurriedly pushed down her skirt as she got to her feet. One of her shoes tumbled down onto the pavement, landing next to her other, still- shoed foot. She bent down to pick it up, but was grabbed by the elbow and pulled to one side. "My shoe!" she protested. She had already left her purse up on the roof. She didn't want to lose one of her best shoes, too.  
  
"Sorry, ma'am, but someone else is already coming down."  
  
Amanda recognized the man right away as Angus MacGyver, who had come up with the idea of making a chute out of the thick red stage curtains so they could slide down from the roof. He had been the first one down and had experienced a rather rough landing in order to set it up better down below for everyone to follow. Basically, he had connected two long curtains together and made a long slide from the roof. On the ground, he had taken the ends of the curtain and fastened them to the bumpers of two vehicles, a police car and a fish and wildlife van. Still, when someone slid down to the very end they unceremoniously fell the last foot onto their butt. They would also receive rug burn on any exposed skin that came in contact with the curtain on the slide down.  
  
"But my shoe!" She stopped complaining once she realized who was to be the next person down the makeshift slide.  
  
"Unhand me! I can get up myself!" Miss Parker was moody at the best of times. Tonight she was livid. "Great! Now where is my purse?" She looked back up toward the roof. "Don't tell me I left it up."  
  
"Did you leave your purse on the roof, Miss Parker?" asked a male voice with gentle sarcasm.  
  
Catherine Parker froze for a moment, then turned to see Jarod grinning at her like a Cheshire Cat. "So you've decided to wait for me for once," she sneered.  
  
"No," he said in a more somber tone. "I came to see that you got out of there all right."  
  
A few emotions warred within her before anger resumed its dominate role. "I'm still taking you back to the Centre!"  
  
"Your gun is in your purse. And evidently that is up on the roof. So unless you are going to go back up that slide and get it, you really can't force me to do anything."  
  
Miss Parker fumed. If it hadn't been for Jarod, then Sydney and Broots wouldn't have gotten into this mess. "You should know that Sydney and Broots sacrificed their lives to get the rest of us out of there."  
  
If she was trying to hurt him, she succeeded. But his reaction was not at all what she expected. "I'm so sorry," he said, a look of grief and sorrow filled his face. Unexpectedly, he pulled her into a comforting embrace before she could react. "Are you all right?" he asked.  
  
"I." Was she all right? Here was the man she had been chasing all over the United States for the past couple of years. And now he was trying to comfort her. She wanted to knee him in the groin. Pull his hair out. Hit him in the jaw. Scratch his eyes out. Instead, she did the unexpected. She melted. Tears flowed. Sydney had been more a father to her than her own father. Broots had always been kind to her, even though she had been overbearing and domineering toward him. Sure he feared her; most men did. But Broots actually cared about her. And that had been a rarity in her life.  
  
Jarod held her close as she cried her frustrations out onto his shoulder. Although this was probably not the best time for this type of thing, sometimes people just need to sit down and cry regardless of where they were or what was going on around them.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mulder's partner, Dana, come down the slide. As she rose painfully to her feet, she spotted Jarod and Catherine. Jarod also saw that she had Catherine's purse in her hand. With a free hand, he gently waved the federal agent back. Dana, sensing that this was probably not the right time to disturb them -- especially since the hardened woman was crying -- decided to hold onto the woman's purse for now and go find Mulder.  
  
Dana had already instructed all able-bodied people as to what to do when they got off the roof. At the men's insistence, the women slid off the roof first. Tess, the security chief, had refused; she was staying until everyone was down. But even without the men, the women following her orders were spreading out and making sure that no one entered the building until the proper authorities arrived. Albeit, Dana had no clue as to whom the proper authorities would be in this case.  
  
She didn't have far to go to find her partner. Mulder could be seen arguing with a nearby police officer about the convention center. Evidently, some of the newly arrived officers were wanting to go into the building via a hole in the wall. Mulder's arguments ceased upon spotting Dana.  
  
"Scully!" He rushed forward upon seeing her, but stopped just before her and took her hand. "Are you all right? These barriers weren't here before. I didn't know what to think."  
  
"I told you on the phone that I was all right. Things just got very hectic and." She paused and took a breath. "I took charge of the situation. Lee Stetson helped me." She looked up into his eyes. "I lost people in there. People following my direction."  
  
Mulder pulled her into the hug he had been hesitant about the moment before. "I'm sure you did what you had to do."  
  
She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, then pulled back. Agents in the Bureau were not allowed to get to intimate with each other. It was seriously frowned upon. Plus, the rumor mill had already been linking Scully and 'Spooky' Mulder for a while. "So.was your venture fruitful?"  
  
Mulder practically glowed. "I'll say! Some seem very human in appearance but claim to be alien. Lennier, he's a Minbari. He has this bony ridge over the back of his head. I can't tell what its purpose is, but hopefully once you examine him you can."  
  
"Mulder," Dana interrupted, "where are they now? When I called, you said you had just arrived here with them."  
  
"They went into the building," he explained sheepishly. "I'd have gone with them, but Jarod and I had to help set up that slide."  
  
Dana was impressed. "So you let your aliens get away so that you could rescue me and the others?"  
  
He looked out as people from the roof slowly spreading out. "Something like that, yes." Just then he saw John Byers slide down and land with a thud. The Lone Gunman brushed off his suit in a careful, dignified manner only to be hit from behind by a new arrival, the even more gangly Murray Bozinsky. MacGyver hurried over from where he had been helping to move an older, handicapped man out of the way.  
  
Mulder burst out laughing. Dana and some others soon followed. Stress and tiredness felt by everyone had found release. Fox pulled Dana into a tighter hug while they watched MacGyver clear away the two skinny men to prevent further mishaps.  
  
All laughter stopped as six helicopters flew in suddenly. The temporary curtain slide blew wildly as helicopters neared. Doug Penhall, who was sliding down at the time, had the ride of his life. He landed roughly and lay on the ground holding his wounded leg, cursing through clenched teeth. Otherwise, he was all right and people were soon coming to move him out of the way.  
  
Mulder feared the worst as he and Scully approached through the landing choppers. When getting close to proving the existence of extra-terrestrial life to the general public, his dealings with other government agents had never been good. To what extremes would they go if a large number of people were to become believers?  
  
The nearest helicopter emptied eight people. A large, broad-shouldered man gave rapid-fire instructions to his comrades who all obeyed without question. All carried weapons.  
  
Mulder had his badge out for the man to see as he came near. "I'm Mulder from the FBI. We've been." The man and three of his remaining companions walked right by him as if he wasn't even there.  
  
Fox had had enough. He shook Scully's restraining hand from his arm. "Hey! Unless you want to get a number of your ultra-spooky government OPS guys killed you had better talk to me! You don't know what is going on in there and I do."  
  
One of the men from the helicopter addressed his superior. "I think you should talk to him, Harry," Albert Gibson offered his opinion.  
  
Harry Tasker sighed. He hated walking into a situation without at least having an idea as to what he was getting into. He turned to regard the FBI agent and his female partner. "You are Fox Mulder. Your partner for the last decade is Dana Scully. You both undertake investigations into bizarre and unexplained mysteries. You especially have a fixation on aliens and UFO's. Now what is the situation here?"  
  
Dana pushed out in front of Fox. "We have people trapped on the roof. They can't go back through the building." She indicated the curtain slide that they had been using.  
  
Harry nodded and adjusted his headset. "Mama Bear, do you read me?"  
  
Gibson pointed up at one of the helicopters still in the air. "There's Helen." He made a quick wave at the helicopter in case Helen was watching.  
  
Harry just nodded as he listened to his ear piece. "Mama Bear. I need you to land on the roof with choppers Delta and Bravo. Have the men set up a temporary perimeter while the choppers airlift the people from up there." They all watched as three of the helicopters flew off to complete his orders. "There. Now what were you were going to tell me about whoever is in there?" he asked, indicating the convention hall.  
  
"Not so fast," Mulder said. "What federal agency did you say that you worked for?"  
  
"I didn't," he answered. "And I'd prefer to keep it that way."  
  
Dana could see trouble brewing even before Mulder could open his mouth. Fortunately, he spotted someone that demanded his attention. "Of course, he would be here."  
  
Harry regarded the man Mulder was focusing on, standing thirty feet away. The man was exiting a sleek black sedan, illegally parked in a handicap parking spot. The man was lighting a cigarette as he regarded the convention hall and the force field over the main entryway. Tasker recognized him instantly from photographs his superiors had shown him. No one had been able to give him a name, but he was regarded as a very dangerous man to cross. Of course, that was the very type of person that Harry lived to cross.  
  
Leaving Mulder and Scully and flanked by three of his men, Harry began walking toward the cigarette smoking man. The two guards standing with the unnamed man began to draw their weapons only to discover that they were already covered by Harry's men. Gibson centered his weapon on the smoking man and smiled.  
  
The cigarette smoking man blew a whiff of smoke Harry's way. "Ah, Mr. Tasker. I believe if you call your superiors you will find that you are to comply with my every request."  
  
Harry smiled. "I have talked to my superiors. It seems one of your superiors regards this event here in Washington as a serious breach of a covenant in which you have been a part. And since that covenant with the little green men has been broken, he provided us with much information." He let that sink in for a minute. "My superiors have requested that anyone finding you is to also bring you in for questioning."  
  
The man inhaled deeply on his cigarette. "This is all bigger than you can imagine. You cannot comprehend the impact of what will happen if."  
  
"Take him away. Allow him no contact." The cigarette smoking man looked up at him spitefully, but said nothing. "And give him a full search. Full."  
  
Two men took the protesting man away, fear showing in his eyes. His cigarette fell to the asphalt, slowly smoldering unheeded in the wind from the helicopters. His underlings were being searched and handcuffed when Harry noticed Mulder and Scully behind him. A helicopter flew overhead, carrying people off the roof.  
  
"They're gray," Mulder said, dubious and yet amazed at seeing someone taking control from his long-time nemesis.  
  
"Gray?"  
  
"They are little gray men. Not green."  
  
Harry still wasn't sure what to believe. But his gut told him to go along with Mulder for now. As they watched, the first helicopter began to deposit people in a little park on the other side of the parking lot. One of Harry's men left with one of the newly arrived ambulances to check on things there. The other ambulance personnel were busy treating various injuries, like the bullet wound in Doug Penhall's leg.  
  
"We'd like to go in with your team," Dana proposed. "I've had experience with these things and."  
  
"Not happening." Harry was willing to trust them out here, but not in a dangerous, unknown situation.  
  
"But I have.acquaintances that have already gone in." Mulder indicated the man-sized hole in the side of the building. A few of Harry's men had set up a parameter there to safeguard against attack. "And I don't want you and your men to mistake them for the Borg." He carefully considered something for a moment. "They were not all Human either."  
  
Harry looked over at his friend and partner of many years before turning back to Mulder. "When you say not Human -- do you mean the attackers or your friends?"  
  
"Both."  
  
Gibson chuckled. "I told you this wasn't going to be your average run-of- the-mill terrorist attack, Harry. I just knew it as soon as."  
  
"Shut up, Al." Harry was liking this situation less and less. He turned to regard Mulder and his partner. "How did you come across these 'alien allies'?"  
  
It was Mulder's turn to hesitate. "I'd rather not say."  
  
The look on Harry's face hardened. "Would you like to join your cigarette addicted friend for a cavity search?"  
  
Mulder's expression did not change, although Dana thought he looked slightly paler. "An NSA agent came charging in to warn us of everything," Dana began, before Mulder could get himself in any further predicaments. "He talked to Dr. Bradley Talmadge and instructed him to warn everyone of what was going on. Then he took my partner to meet with some people -- or aliens -- who could help with the situation."  
  
"Operation: Backstep raises its prophetic head again," joked Gibson.  
  
"The NSA man was Frank Parker?" Tasker asked.  
  
Mulder nodded. They all watched as another helicopter left the roof, carrying people to safety.  
  
Harry looked around. "Where is he now?" he asked in a commanding tone. Tasker had worked with Frank on three separate occasions. Each time, the NSA agent had somehow come across information that saved hundreds of lives and on one occasion the life of a Chinese Ambassador. Though he didn't like Frank's unorthodox methods or attitude, he did respect his results. That counted a lot in Harry's book.  
  
Mulder didn't like Harry's tone, but answered in spite of it. "He was wounded. Shot in the shoulder. He stayed behind with one of my friends who had been injected by the Borg."  
  
"Injected?" Gibson asked. Injections were never a good thing when administered by the enemy. There was always the possibility that it could be life threatening or contagious. And they didn't usual take care in using sterilized equipment.  
  
"That's how they take a person over and turn them into one of the Borg," Mulder explained. "See, you need me so that I can explain all this to you. You are dealing with an advanced alien lifeform with advanced technology that seeks to."  
  
"Enough!" There were some things that Harry just would not accept. Aliens were definitely one of them. Maybe it was really some kind of technological secret organization like the mysterious Section One or SPECTRE. "You want to do something that would help? Fine. Go get Agent Frank Parker and bring him to me. Until then, I am clearing the roof of people and setting up to slowly enclosing the parameter." In his phone report, Agent Parker had insisted that everyone in a mile radius of the convention center be evacuated. Harry's superiors felt that something like that could lead to wide scale panic and so had sent Harry to evaluate the situation first. But he could do that a lot better if Agent Parker was here to consult.  
  
Mulder wanted to argue Harry orders. Dana put a gentle, yet firm restraining hand on his shoulder. "We agree," she said.  
  
Mulder felt slightly betrayed by his partner, but nodded in agreement. He watched a helicopter take off and head towards the roof again. He had to give the man credit for trying to help others -- a far cry from what he was used to from shadowy government agent figures.  
  
"One more thing," Harry said. He turned and spoke into his headset. Turning back to the two federal agents, "I want you to take one of our agents with you."  
  
Mulder was about to protest when a young woman barely out of her teens ran toward them. She wore the same gear as the other agents, but her appearance was definitely more feminine. "What?! You're sending one of your interns with us?" he asked incredulously.  
  
Harry ignored Mulder. "Dana, I want you to go with these two agents. They are bringing an NSA agent back with them."  
  
The young woman frowned. "Da."she caught herself. "I mean, Sir, I really think I could be of more use here. You don't have enough agents to cover this building and."  
  
Harry held up his hand for silence, cutting off the young agent's words. "Dana, I'm in charge and you will do as you are told." When she nodded her agreement, he continued. "Also, you will be in charge of bringing Agent Frank Parker to me."  
  
Dana's eyes twinkled. Scully and Mulder were none too happy with this new arrangement, but said nothing. Seeing this as a good sign, Harry introduced the young Dana to the two FBI agents. They left shortly thereafter, Mulder driving the black sedan in which the cigarette smoking man had arrived.  
  
"You want me to follow them, don't you?" Gibson asked.  
  
"She's my only child. I want to let her be responsible for herself." He turned to give Gibson a hard look. "But only in the safety of a controlled environment."  
  
"So I follow them," Gibson acknowledged. "You trust those two feds?"  
  
Harry thought a moment. "They may be unusual, but as far as I can tell they are honest and dedicated. Though Mulder has some weird beliefs."  
  
"All right." Agent Gibson paused for a moment. "You know she won't like it if she finds out that I'm tailing her."  
  
"Would you rather explain to Helen why I let her daughter stay during a dangerous situation instead of sending her on a fluff mission?"  
  
"Right. I'm on it." Harry handed him a tracking device attuned to the bug secretly planted on Harry's daughter. "Don't worry, boss. I'll guard her like she was my own." Al took off running and commandeered a nearby vehicle from a protesting driver who had been gawking only moments before.  
  
As Gibson was driving away, Harry noticed that most of the parking slots near the building were empty. The farther ends of the parking lot was packed with cars. There didn't seem to be a reason, such as blocked off space or some special reserved parking. There were just no vehicles there. Or there had been cars there and someone had taken or moved them.  
  
The electric signboard in front of the convention hall's main entryway parking lot flashed back and forth between advertisements and commercials. Instead of the normal schedule of upcoming events or a Dr. Pepper commercial, a young bald man appeared. The appearance of his unnatural skin condition was unsettling. There was a red tracking laser placed over his right eye balanced only by the dullness of his uncovered eye. Behind him were other people similar in appearance mulling around zombie-like as they attended some unknown task.  
  
The outside speakers could be heard turning on. Then the man on the signboard screen spoke. "We are temporary speaker Brainiac of Borg. You will be assimilated into the Collective. The Borg will expand." The pale bald man paused for a moment, as if to let the statement sink in before continuing. "Assimilation of your species will happen with or without your cooperation. The Borg cannot be defeated. Prepare for assimilation. Your resistance is futile." The image of the man remained frozen for a moment, then the screen went blank.  
  
"Not your typical terrorist statement, Papa Bear," Harry heard a female voice over his earpiece. "Was it just me or did those guys bring a whole new meaning to body piercing?"  
  
Harry grunted before answering Helen. "Looked like it to me. Mulder might actually have been right on this one."  
  
A helicopter rose from the roof with a new batch of people to be rescued. It was suddenly enveloped in a bluish-white beam emitting from the far end of the roof. Other flashes and gunfire could be seen and heard coming from the roof top.  
  
"Mama Bear! Mama Bear!! What's going on up there, Helen?" His headset caught only grinding static as Harry watched the helicopter be drawn back to the roof against its pilot's will. Another bluish-white beam had swung further out, ensnaring a helicopter which had been attempting to aid the first one. A few men jumped from the roof via the curtain slide as their last chance of escape. All Harry could do was watch.  
  
*****  
  
CHURCH NEAR THE SPACE NEEDLE "My buddy, Phil, was quite a chopper pilot in his day. Got himself all sorts of commendations and medals for all the heroic stuff he did in Korea." He sniffed, adjusting his belt in an air of self-importance as the storyteller. "He always said he was going to take me up in the air sometime. Show me some of them fancy moves he used earning all them medals." He paused in reflection. "Course, he never did get around to it and then he was gone."  
  
"Did he crash?" Santini asked. He was barely paying attention to the story man's story. Meeting aliens and hearing about a machine takeover of the world tends to be distracting.  
  
"No. He moved to Alaska and became a bush pilot."  
  
"Sorry to hear that," Santini replied. Their view from where they sat on the church steps allowed him to keep a good eye on Airwolf. And with the slightest turn of his head, he could look into the church and watch some of what was going on inside. He was curious about the blonde woman they had been asked to bring here. What was she going to do? She seemed nice, which was a quite a contrast from the fellow, Sampson, she traveled with. Neither of them graced his view through the doorway, though. Mostly, he could see the scaly guy called Garak, who was sitting in a chair apparently watching something beyond the pilot's view. Santini found that if he stared too long, the lizard-like man would turn his head and give him a warm, unnerving smile.  
  
"So, maybe before you go, you could take me up for a spin?" the talkative man suggested.  
  
"Yeah, sure. I could." Dominic caught himself. "In Airwolf?" He glanced at the skinny man before him. Sheriff Fife appeared to be drowning in his uniform. He resembled a little kid wearing a Halloween costume. "We'll see," he said reluctantly. Usually, he loved to show off Airwolf, but right now his nerves were on edge.  
  
"That'd be great!" Fife responded with almost comical exuberance. "If we can, that is," the Mayberry sheriff amended.  
  
Something skirted the edge of his senses, causing him to stand up suddenly. Santini stared intently into the nearby wooded area.  
  
"Something wrong?"  
  
"Yeah." He rubbed his jaw with one hand while he contemplated the situation. "You were suppose to keep Frank awake; make sure he didn't go into shock."  
  
The sheriff looked over at Frank Parker's still figure, sleeping in his chair at the top of the steps. He had been shot in the shoulder earlier that night, but had only found time to for a temporary patch-job. The doctors had been too busy with their two Borg patients inside to really see to Frank's injury. He had been too preoccupied making phone calls to allow anyone to work on his shoulder anyway. "Omigosh! I thought he was just listening intently to what we were saying!"  
  
"No. He was just falling asleep." Santini made a decision. One he hoped he would not live to regret. Or, at least one he would live through. "Go get one of the doctors inside to check on him. I am going to go check on something out there," he finished, pointing toward the trees.  
  
"Right!" Barney said, his head bobbing up in down in panicked excitement. "I'll go get a doctor!" He rushed up the stairs, almost tripping while trying to get around Frank Parker's unconscious form. He paused before crossing the threshold. "Where did you say you were going?"  
  
Dominic Santini was already halfway to the trees and didn't turn around. "All right. Where are you?" he muttered. He really didn't expect whoever it was to just announce themselves. Most were the type that prefers surprise attack. He passed deeper into the trees. A building, closed for the night, now lay between him and the church. He was surprised when a woman stepped out of the shadows. She was probably in her mid twenties or early thirties, with black, shoulder length hair. Her eyes were filled with fear.  
  
"You.Are you going to try ki.kill me like the ones who were chasing me?" She fought to control her voice.  
  
Dominic looked down at the sword in his hand. He didn't remember pulling it out. "That all depends. Do you plan on challenging me? Personally, I'd rather not fight anyone, but some people really insist, if you know what I mean," he answered, chuckling lightly in an attempt at lightening the situation.  
  
Santini's charm didn't seem to have any effect. "No," she said in a frightened tone. "All I know is that I sense these people and then they come after me with swords," she pointed to the sword in Santini's hand for emphasis.  
  
This worried Santini. "No one has ever trained you or explained the rules of the Game?" It wasn't unheard of for some Immortals to take the head of a Newbie rather than train them. But this behavior was generally frowned upon by the majority of Immortals.  
  
"I don't know what you are talking about. What game?" She seemed close to tears now, making Dominic extremely uncomfortable. "If you are going to kill me, please just get it over with."  
  
He wasn't about to do that. But the alternative was to take her in as his apprentice and he had never done that before. Still, something about it all seemed naggingly familiar. "Wait a minute!" he extended his sword out fully, even though she was just ten feet away. "You're Felicia Martins! You go around pretending to be a brand new Immortal in distress, then attack your mentors when their defenses are down." Her look of surprise quickly shifted into a snarl. He laughed at the dangerous vixen. "Duncan's put out the word on you, girl! You won't find too many suckers anymore!"  
  
The femme fatale pulled out a short sword she kept strapped to her thigh. "At least I can still get you. You look like you've only got a decade or two under your belt, while I have over two hundred years."  
  
Santini quietly swallowed. He hoped the teachings of his mentor, Amanda, would serve him well.  
  
"You young ones are like fast food. Easy to get and gone just as fast." She laughed as Santini leaped backward. Her quick slash would have disemboweled him had it connected..  
  
Santini didn't have any more time for words. He was fighting in a battle only one could walk away from. And he was beginning to think it just might not be him.  
  
*****  
  
"Strange weather you have on your planet," Garak commented to the nearby Humans.  
  
Stringfellow Hawke helped move Frank Parker inside onto a bench so one of the doctors could examine him. Having finished his task, he stood regarding the Cardassian thoughtfully. He had never really given much thought to the subject of aliens and UFOs. But now, with an alien standing there before him, he was very much intrigued. "How is it different from your planet?"  
  
"Well, for one thing we don't have lightning strikes that continue repeatedly in a localized area."  
  
Stringfellow had noticed the lights dimming briefly before but had thought nothing of it. He had been busy struggling together with Garak to get Parker carried inside. Now, it meant a lot to him. "Where's Dominic?" he asked, shifting aside a window shade. He caught sight of the last few seconds of the flickering lightning from the opposite side of a nearby building.  
  
Barney Fife walked up, carrying a cup of hot coffee in each hand. "Your copilot? He said he had to check on something, then lit out in the direction of those trees.." Coffee sloshed as Fife motioned with his hand.  
  
Stringfellow hurried out the door, ignoring the coffee the elder sheriff extended toward him. "I told him to just run away from such things."  
  
"Is there a problem, Hawke?" Garak asked, more out of curiosity then worry.  
  
Seeing that the humanoid reptilian was about to follow him, Stringfellow just shook his head. "I just have to check on something. You should stay with others. They'll probably need you." Having said that, he turned and hurried away.  
  
Garak looked back at the far end of the church were Sydney was preparing to communicate with the drone, Wade Welles. Julian was giddy with excitement over the prospect of exploring the inner being of the Borg collective and had already tuned out Garak. Garak turned to the skinny sheriff. "I think our pilot friends may need us more than those here."  
  
"We do seem to be tripping over each other here," admitted Barney. Than a thought occurred to him and a look of concern crossed his face, "Hey! Wait a minute! Are you suggesting that we -- you and me - follow them?"  
  
"Just to see that everything is actually all right." Garak noted the evident concern in the sheriff's face. "You aren't afraid of walking out into the night with an alien from another planet, are you?"  
  
Shaking his head profusely and spilling more coffee, Fife answered, "No, no, no, no. We get strange UFO lights flying over the Mayberry countryside from time to time. We have quite a friendly attitude toward otherworldly visitors where I come from."  
  
"Good." Garak smiled warmly at the sheriff, but didn't believe a word of it. "Then let's go." He turned and headed down the steps.  
  
Barney gulped. With trembling hands, he put down the coffee, managing to spill a little more. He quickly wiped his hands on his shirt and, much to his surprise, followed the Cardassian into the night.  
  
Further inside the church, Hobbes was engaged in an intense discussion with Oliver Sampson about the dangers to which Sydney would be exposing herself. The argument was mostly a facade, and both men knew it. They were both very tense and needed to take it out on someone. Luckily, they had each other. The others stayed out of the way and let them yell. No one wanted either man's attention shifted onto them or what they were doing..  
  
Frohike waited at Langly's side as his fellow Lone Gunmen recovered from his traumatic ordeal. The nanites had been purged from his system, but Melvin's attention remained riveted to the device being set up by the attractive blond from the fancy helicopter. "It looks like a phone system run through a computer."  
  
Sydney Bloom glanced over at the two men with a smile that would normally leave Frohike feeling like melted butter. "That's the basic setup," she acknowledged, "but there is more to it than that."  
  
"There always is," Frohike muttered.  
  
Sydney adjusted the phone's headpiece to stay on the comatose Welles' head. She bit her lip in frustration. She had never seen anything like the mechanical devices that had been grafted to the young woman's body, let alone the circuitry running under her skin. She wasn't sure if the mechanisms connected to Welles would interfere with what Sydney was about to attempt. She determined to give it a shot. She couldn't imagine the horrors this woman before her had suffered, but Sydney knew that she would soon be able to find out.  
  
"Amazing," Bashir said, putting down his tricorder. "The electric impulses sent through these phone lines from the computer may allow you to "visit" someone's mind virtually." He studied his tricorder again. "I know quite a few psychiatrists back home that would love to explore this type of therapy." His dreams of presenting such a device were rudely disrupted as Oliver Sampson suddenly snatched his tricorder away. Sampson violently threw it to the ground and smashed it with his foot.  
  
"Are you mad?" shrieked Julian.  
  
"No exchange of technology has been made, Doctor," Sampson spoke coldly. "Examining our equipment beforehand is not part of any deals that I have made." He looked over at Bobby Hobbes for comment.  
  
"Smashing their equipment wasn't part of the deal either," Hobbes interjected sarcastically. "That device could have been part of the trade."  
  
Bashir ignored them both. With a look of disgust on his face, he retrieved his damaged tricorder from the floor. Though the tricorder's frame was slightly bent, all the information he had gathered remained safely stored inside. Not that he was about to let Sampson know that. "If we can just get on with this? I really don't like the way Miss Welles' lifesigns have been fluctuating."  
  
"We deal first," Sampson said, remaining obstinate.  
  
"No," came Sydney's quiet voice. She sat on a stool the church's young pastor had provided for her. "We help first. Then do your dealing."  
  
"Sydney." began Oliver.  
  
"This woman doesn't have time for you to get a good 'price' for me risking my neck, Oliver." She set the second phone headset on her own head. "Go make your deals. I'm off to help Wade." Then she reached over to push a button, bringing about a connection before Oliver could argue any further.  
  
In her mind's eye, she was suddenly flying through a sea of bright lights. She stopped suddenly. Usually, entrance into another's subconscious was not so dramatic. But these were not ordinary circumstances. She pushed the hair back out of her eyes and let out a shriek of surprise. This was not the holographic setting in which she had planned to meet Wade Welles.  
  
There, directly in front of her was a snake-headed humanoid standing upright in some sort of device. To the left and right of the reptile man were others, similarly held upright within the same sort of device. Every being seemed to be of different origin. Some seemed more bovine or aquatic. Some were larger or had more appendages and mandibles. One thing was certain. It was all more alien than anything else she had previously encountered.  
  
Taking a step back, Sydney began to notice other details. She was in a seemingly unending hall apparently fashioned of metal. She also seemed to know instinctually that there were more halls just like this above her, below her, and both in front and back of her. Fortunately, the alien-like figures lining these halls appeared to be unconscious. They did not look as though they were physical as much as holographic instead.  
  
Not seeing Wade Welles anywhere nearby, Sydney decided to examine the reptilian figure before her. She noted immediately that the holographic image was fashioned in such a way that a singular string of light bent and folded itself from the bottom, wrapping round and round, making up the image of the alien. A small thread of the holographic makeup seemed to extend approximately four inches from the figure and light up. This small piece of holographic thread seemed just a little brighter than the rest and moved slowly, continually through the rest of the alien image.  
  
Taking a risk, Sydney reached forward and touched the string.  
  
Re'ain sat lazily on the hot boulder as she enjoyed the heat of the Auze, the orange sun beaming down on her. The hot, arid wind felt wonderful on her scales making her feel more comfortable. A long-nosed varmint raised it's head in search of prey or possible a handout, but she tossed a rock at it instead sending running for the rocky hills. Reclining back on the flat top of the boulder, she felt her swollen belly carefully, trying to count the number of eggs that she would give birth to in two weeks time. She was happy for that very morning before she had left the city she had received word that her mate, Tss'n, would be returning to Selay. During his encounters against the devious and mangy Anticans, he had been wounded, but not killed like her cousin's mate. Tss'n would be taking medical leave to recuperate from his battle wounds. Hopefully, his hand wouldn't fully regrow until all the egglings hatched. Then they could do the naming ritual together.  
  
Re'ain felt another craving which all mothers dealt with. Deciding to indulge herself early, she reached over to a ornately decorated basket. Removing the lid, she picked up one of the fuzzy toles she had been overfeeding with grubs for the past couple days. Holding the little animal tight in her scaly hand, she examined the morsel closely. "Yes, you should be nice and tasty," she said approvingly. Her forked tongue licked her lips in anticipation, as she-  
  
Sydney stepped back from the holographic image. She breathed in and out of her mouth to keep from retching. When she had regained enough of her composer, she looked up at the image of Re'ain. She could see some of the feminine features now that she couldn't see before due to the alieness of the figure. But when she had touched the alien holographic figure she had felt as if the eggs were within her. It had been Sydney reclining on the hot boulder in the hot sun contemplating her mate's return. "No, I was reliving Re'ain's memories," she told herself. "This is a recording. A recording of all her experiences."  
  
Sometime after that point in Re'ain's life that Sydney had just been privy to, Re'ain had met up with the Borg. Whether the Borg had come to Selay or Re'ain had left her home planet and run into Borg elsewhere was still a mystery to Sydney. She knew she could probably find out if she ever got up the nerve to touch the holographic figure again. But first she had to find Wade Welles. And try get up the nerve again to touch another hologram.  
  
"Wade?" she called out. "Wade Welles? I've come to help you."  
  
A whimper made her turn to the right. She was about to walk toward the whimpering when she found that she was suddenly traveling a lot farther than she had intended. Perhaps even a mile of two in a split second. Up a few levels and to one of the sides two. How she knew all that, Sydney wasn't sure but accepted it as she had to accept a lot of things she had discovered while exploring other peoples minds.  
  
There between the holographic images of a giant silicone figure and a tall stocky, yet thin, figure with three legs, was Wade Welles. She of all the figures Sydney had seen so far was not a hologram, but appeared to be physically there. "Wade?" she called out gently so as to not catch the woman off guard. Wade, unlike her holographic companions, even though she was on a similar platform was curled up in a fetal position with a arm tightly covering her eyes. Her body trembled as she quietly cried. Also, she appeared to be the only one still on one of the stands that was outfitted as a drone.  
  
Believing time was not on her side, with Wade's lifesigns fluctuating. Sydney had no desire to be inside Wade's brain if the drone died. Reaching out, she touched the young woman on the stand. Wade recoiled and Sydney almost did out of reflex. Steeling herself, Sydney grabbed one of Wade's arms and began to pull it away from her face. Surprisingly, Wade did not put up much resistance. Whether that was because she traumatically was set up to just receive whatever horrible thing was about to happen to her or that with her life slowly ebbing away she just didn't have the strength, Sydney didn't know, she just took advantage of the moment. The red lens with its red beam was the first thing Sydney saw.  
  
"Look at me!" Sydney demanded.  
  
Wade's other eye opened and for a moment regarded the woman. "You are separate!" she exclaimed in surprise. "You aren't connected to me! How are you doing that?"  
  
"You want me to be apart of you?" Sydney didn't like the sound of that. From what the spandex wearing doctor, Bashir, had told her, the Borg tried to absorb everyone into their mental collective which Sydney, not exactly understanding all off that, decided was not a good thing.  
  
"No!" cried the drone Welles. "I don't want anyone to be a part of me. I want to be alone. But I can't. I can't even think alone."  
  
"What happens when you think?" the blond woman asked insistently.  
  
The Welles drone settled on the ground with her back to the Borg regenerating receptacle. She trembled. "I start to think of something . anything really. And every one in here starts to think with me. What ever subject I start with, I suddenly have thousands, sometimes millions of reference points to sort through." She shuddered again. "And most of these minds are so alien. Some even evil."  
  
The lights of the whole place dimmed briefly. Sydney looked around nervously while Wade seemed to just go still.  
  
"I think I'm dying," Wade said quietly.  
  
"You don't have to." Sydney reached out to the black leather clad woman with tubes and mechanical parts sticking out of her. "I was talking to Dr. Bashir and-"  
  
"Dr. Julian Bashir. Chief Medical Officer on Deep Space Nine." Wade nodded. "I have references to him and a number of his research papers." She sighed sadly. "I just hope it'll be quiet when I'm dead. I really hate this whole cybernetic uni-mind thing."  
  
Sydney was unsure what to do. She didn't want to leave the woman to die. But Wade seemed to have not desire to live. No reason to want to go on. Still she had to try something.  
  
"You are the one in control, right?"  
  
Wade looked around. "I seemed to be now that I've been disconnected from the Borg Collective. I'm basically on my own which usually means a drone tries to reestablishes contact, or failing that, self-destructs." She mused for a moment. "Starfleet must have found a way around that."  
  
"I'd like you to try something, if you don't mind." Wade seemed to be warming up to her, even though she still seemed very skittish and depressed. Wade nodded in willingness to at least her out. "I'm told that you were a computer programmer before you started jumping from world to world."  
  
"A musician too," Wade said weakly. "Keyboard."  
  
Sydney nodded. "I want you to select someone here." She waved an arm out at the endless line of bodies. "One of the worst if you would."  
  
Wade shook her head profusely. "No! I want little or no contact! Not direct contact!"  
  
"You misunderstand. Think like using a computer. I want you to select someone, not access them."  
  
Wade nervously agreed. And before them a new figure appeared, highlighted in gray taking the place of the extremely hairy hologram that had been previously there. "Oi-Rtlier of Primus IV in the Beta Quadrant. Ran the death camp workers for twenty-three years before the Borg came. He personally oversaw the majority of the torture and created many of the means as to how to-  
  
"Stop." Sydney looked the being over before her. Oi-Rtlier was mostly humanoid, except for a earthworm-like skin that covered his entire body. And the thin tentacles that came down where a Earth man would have a beard. "Can you delete him?" Wade didn't seem to comprehend. "Delete," Sydney repeated. "This hologram just represents a compiling of his memories and experiences. Can you delete it?"  
  
Wade's looked at her in shock. Then turned to regard Oi-Rtlier of Primus IV. And then he was gone.  
  
Suddenly, the rest of the holograms in Sydney's view were highlighted in gray. "Stop!"  
  
Wade's metal and black leather clad head turned to regard her. "Why? You have shown me how to reclaim my mind. Why stop now?"  
  
"Deleting all of them may be too much. It may kill you."  
  
"A chance well worth taking." Wade was standing tall now. She no longer felt like she couldn't do anything about the situation. She could push it all away with one quick stroke. And what ever happened after that was better then what had been happening.  
  
"But you could turn it to your gain."  
  
Wade stood there looking at Sydney. Seeing as how Wade had not deleted the rest of the holograms right away, Sydney started in on her argument.  
  
"These holograms represent the culture and intellect of hundreds, perhaps thousands of alien races. Think what you could do with that! The technology at your fingertips, literally. The things you could make and accomplish."  
  
"I could go home," Wade Welles whispered. "To my Earth." She stood there for a moment. "Quinn."  
  
"A boyfriend or husband?"  
  
A smile actually crossed Wade's face. "A friend. But it could have been more. Perhaps if we had more like science. Then we would have had more to talk about."  
  
Sydney understood that. Men made passes at her all the time, but she wanted someone she could talk to, someone to relate to, and that was just to hard when you worked with things like virtual reality programs that let you go into someone's mind. You can't share that type of information. "Well, now that you have access to a lot of scientific technologies and theories you can . find something to talk about."  
  
Wade looked at the walls of holographic figures around her, all still highlighted in gray. "But it's all still so much."  
  
"Then downsize. Just keep the ones that seem most useful or interesting." She had another idea, and decided to tell it. "You may even be able to just delete the parts of memory that are useless or just to bad." Her experience with Re'ain came to mind. "And don't delete those that just seem to alien. You may be able to learn something from them as well. Think about it. You can actually put yourself in another person's shoes. Even it they were an alien. Think of the insight that gives you."  
  
"I'll think about it," Wade agreed. "But those like Oi-Rtlier are definitely going."  
  
Sydney regarded the young woman before her. Wade was standing taller, though a little unsure, with more confidence. Even the lights in the hall seemed brighter. "Are you going to be okay?"  
  
Wade's appearance morphed. Gone was the black leather, tubing and metal appendages of the drone. Wade now wore a light yellow and red sun dress. "Yes. I'm just going to be doing a little spring cleaning and then I'll be along. Thank you. You can go and I'll be along momentarily."  
  
"Don't you want-" Sydney suddenly found herself flying back through the same lightshow that she had passed through to get there.  
  
She jerked suddenly and found herself back at the church with Dr. Bashir on one side of her and Oliver on the other.  
  
"Miss Bloom?" Julian inquired. "Is everything all right? Did you experience anything at all?"  
  
She held up a hand to hold them back while rubbing her temple with her spare. "How long was I gone?"  
  
"For about three seconds," Oliver said. He still seemed miffed that she had just jumped the gun and not let him make his deal. Sydney shrugged him off for now. It would be a little while before he would accept that he had not gotten his way.  
  
"So something did happen?" Dr. Bashir asked with a hint of exuberance. He began to raise a spare tricorder to examine the female drone lying prone before him when her remaining eye opened and regarded him.  
  
Seeing that Bashir froze, Sydney stepped forward to Wade, making sure to place herself between the young drone and Bobby Hobbes who had drawn his gun. "Wade? Wade, it's Sydney."  
  
The young woman's face, even though covered with Borg implements, managed a weak smile. "I was wondering what your name was." Her voice was slightly strained but seemed to show promise.  
  
As the two woman began communication, Oliver grabbed Julian's arm and pulled him back a few feet. "You got what you wanted, now let's negotiate."  
  
Before Oliver could continue, Bashir held up a hand. "I'm a doctor. Not a deal broker. Any deals you make you do through Garak. I still have a patient to examine." Thus resolved, Julian went and introduced himself to the reclaimed Wade Welles.  
  
Oliver was slightly steamed. He had risked a lot to bring Sydney out here. He had to show a profit for it or he would be the one paying the price. It didn't help matters that Bobby Hobbes was smirking at him. To the far left, Keeply finished repatching Frank Parker's shoulder. The woman seemed to collapse next to her patient. The late night and tragedy of Darien Fawkes was taking it's toll on her. She sat there listening to Parker breath as she stared at the specks on the wall and tried to make sense of it all.  
  
Oliver regarded Frohike who was getting coffee from Pastor Kenton. The quiet man seemed to be taking a lot of interest in everything that was going on. And for some reason he felt that he should know the man. He shrugged and walked to the door. Worse comes to worse, he'd sanction a kill on the man. Hobbes followed. "Where's that lizard man? I'd like to know what I'm getting for all this Good Samaritan work I'm doing."  
  
"Garak?" Hobbes asked innocently. "I think he went for a walk."  
  
Oliver grumbled to himself as he walked down the outside steps to try find Garak.  
  
*****  
  
"It opens like this," Tom said as he opened the tab on the top of the pop can.  
  
"I've been to the twentieth century before. I know how to open the blasted things," Scotty said, taking the beverage from the young man. "Wish the replicators could do a decent job on making these," he commented before taking a good swig of Mountain Dew.  
  
They were looking at what appeared to have been a battle, except all the bodies were missing. Those from Starfleet were accepted this as one of the methods of the Borg, however those from Babylon 5 found it most unsettling. Currently, they were letting Galen use some of his more unique probes, in the form of inch long glowing fairies and dragons, to find the areas that the Borg occupied, as well as wait for the enigmatic Doctor and his group. Meanwhile Guinin, Tom Paris and Scotty were checking out the different selections that had fallen out of a fallen over pop machine.  
  
"I wish there was a root beer," commented Guinin as she perused through what was available and not leaking. Finally she settled on a can of Squirt. She kept her rifle at her side hanging from a strap over her shoulder.  
  
Tom took a swig of his Dr. Pepper. "It's been a while. But worth the wait."  
  
Scotty put down his empty Mountain Dew and reached for another can. "This is all going to get pretty intense." It was more a statement that anything else.  
  
"It always is with the Borg," Tom replied. He crushed his now empty can in his hand, than made a toss at nearby trash receptacle, missed, but didn't care because the whole area was already quite a mess.  
  
"The best thing to do is to fight with all you have and then some." Guinin looked determined, even zealous.  
  
It was Scotty that broached the subject. "You still want us to." He left the sentence incomplete, not wanting to say it.  
  
"Yes," Guinin said, with grim determination. "If the Borg capture me alive, kill me. Simple as that. I would rather die than become a drone for the Borg."  
  
Tom gazed around the room for a moment, checking on where everyone was. "You know, a few people have been reclaimed from the Borg and-"  
  
Guinin cut him off. "I won't go through that. They won't do to me what they did to my people." She then brushed off her clothes of some of the dirt that had gathered there, and left to find a moment of solitude. Tom and Scotty sat there in silence, deep in thought and neither wishing to be the first to say something about the matter.  
  
Near a staircase leading to the second floor, Lennier was bending down to retrieve a page of a newspaper that had fallen there. Contemplating it for a moment, he carefully folded it up and placed it in a bag he carried.  
  
"You don't look like the type to get into the funnies."  
  
Lennier turned to regard Alfred Bester, the telepath. "Funnies?" he asked, unsure of what he was referring to.  
  
"The comic strip that you put into your bag. They were sometimes called the funnies."  
  
"Ah, yes." He patted the bag gently. "A gift for Mr. Garibaldi," he said, in explanation. "A souvenir, I believe you call it."  
  
Bester snorted. "That's right. Garibaldi collected items like that. A simple hobby for a simple mind."  
  
Lennier politely disagreed. "Anyone who really knew Mr. Garibaldi knows that he is much more complex than he lets on."  
  
"Ha!" The telepath didn't say anything else. He gently massaged his forehead. The voices, some human, mostly alien, were getting louder. His other hand moved toward a compartment on his belt. Inside were a number of small white pills that would temporarily reduce a telepath's mental abilities. The pills were just one of the tools that he would use to help take down a particularly strong telepath. Then, that telepath could receive the proper instruction from Psi Corps and would soon realize just who their friends were. Everyone who went through the process soon learned that the Corp was their family and the only ones they could truly trust. Now, however, the pills he would usually force upon a potential initiate could be the only thing to save him from loosing his mind to the ever growing torrent of mental thoughts of the Borg uni-mind. But, no, he pulled his hand from the compartment. To take a pill now would leave him helpless, mentally and even partially physically incapacitate him to a degree. Not even on his worst day was he going to trust these 'comrades' he was working with to protect him. As far as he was concerned, no telepath could trust a non-telepath or even a alien. Especially not a Minbari, like Lennier.  
  
"Something is troubling you?" Lennier asked with some concern. The Human had been standing there with his eyes closed for almost a minute with look frustration and pain on his face. Now that Lennier spoke, however, Bester's face cleared of any turmoil. "You should mind your own business, Minbari," Alfred snapped. "Like collecting Funnies for your friend." He turned and stormed away.  
  
Lennier puzzled over the strange behavior of the telepath for a moment, comparing it to some of the more unusual mood swings of the Centari. Seeing that the others of his group were still not ready to move on, the young Minbari sat down and began to meditate and trying to understand the aggressive similarities between the telepath and the Centari.  
  
Dureena was enjoying running a check on the location for the Borg. It was almost like a game for her as she guided the holographic fairies and dragons throughout the center. The center mass of them seem to be in the basement," she said out loud. "They probably set themselves up there a few days ago just as this convention was just getting stated taking a few people here and there until they had enough to converge on the rest."  
  
She could hear the Starfleet admiral arguing with her mentor in the background, but she ignored and continued with her update. "The connecting hotel only has ten drones in it. They seemed to converting some of the equipment in the kitchen and in the main boiler room." She concentrated on getting a closer look through her visual connection to one of the holographical mythical creations spying for her. "Haven't seen technology like that before. It seems to be a converter of some sort." Through her 'eye' she saw one of the drones turn towards her, then to her surprise, that eye blinked out. "They took out my Chinese dragon!"  
  
"You were being over confident," Galen reprimanded lightly. "Fortunately, the 'dragon' destroyed itself before the drone could examine it too closely." He was actually quite proud of his young student and the speed of which she learned things. Some of the dragon designs she had even made herself. "You were so busy looking for the Borg, however, that you failed to notice the two men coming down the hall. As well as the drones pursuing them."  
  
Dureena had one of her winged fairies fly up through the floor from where it had been doing a run through one of the underground access tunnels, did a quick sweep of the hall to confirm her mentor's facts. Sighing at having made such a obvious slip, she waved her hand in front of her eyes, returning her sight back to her surroundings and not those of her unearthly creations. Her little mythical facsimiles would remain scouting for drones, however, even without her guidance until she sent for them to return to her.  
  
Admiral Owen Paris was not that pleased by all that he had heard. "You say you can tell where all the Borg drones are but you missed the drones closest to us?"  
  
"Hey! I'm new to techno-mage technology!"  
  
"But doing quite well as learning it," amended her mentor, Galen.  
  
Owen wanted to press the matter, but realized he didn't have time. Two men were hobbling down the hall and right towards them. The taller, more sturdier built man had a thick mustache and was half pulling, half dragging his much shorter and balder companion who seemed to be just waking up.  
  
The big man almost spun in his track when he saw Lennier and the bony protrusion on the back side of his skull. But he stopped when he realized that their were no drones around and that the rest of the people in the room seemed Human.  
  
"Broots, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore. Washington, either for that matter," Thomas Magnum said to his companion. "These people are weirder than the guys with swords."  
  
"Swords?" Broots looked up in confusion at the man supporting him.  
  
"You were out for that encounter. I'll fill you in later. For now, just chalk it up as one more thing to add to this day of weirdness."  
  
A shot from behind them caused both men, Broots being pulled, to jump to the side of the wall around the corner.  
  
"Find cover!" Magnum shouted to the strangers in the room. Most did just that, as well as pulling out a variety of unusual weapons the likes of which Magnum nor Broots had ever seen before. Admiral Paris, his son Tom, and Scotty all had modified laser rifles. Guinin had a similarly sized weapon but of her native El-Aurian design colored red and gray. Bester also had a weapon out but did not have a clear shot from where he was positioned. Dureena fiddled with something in her pouch but seemed uncertain as to what to use. Lennier took cover near Dureena but did not reach for any weapon.  
  
Galen was the only one not to duck for cover, but instead stood where he was in the open. One of the Borg incapacitating blasts hit him in the chest, but with no effect. "Curious," he commented. Then with a wave of his hand, a cloud of pink dust flew out at the drone twenty-five feet away, settling around it. The drone looked down as the material solidified around him, which left it without the ability to move.  
  
A drone coming up behind the first drone received a deadly hail of shots from Guinin's weapon. The first shot was more then enough to kill the drone, but Guinin was not about to make a mistake where the Borg were concerned. She was about to shot the one Galen had entrapped when Tom pushed her gun to the side.  
  
"Let the techno-mage look at the drone. I think he trapped it for a reason." He saw the fire in her eyes. Almost her entire race had been wiped out by the Borg, including her family. But Tom also knew that such a hate could consume her if left unchecked. Guinin lowered her laser rifle. But said nothing to the pilot from Voyager. Instead she went to go introduce herself to the two newcomers, Magnum and Broots.  
  
The others began to conjugate around Galen's prize catch. The catch itself was only able to move it's head slightly to look up at the people coming toward it. Tom was scanning the drone, but was unable to help himself and reached out to touch the pink substance that had formed around it, leaving only it's head exposed. "It's hard." He looked to Galen for answers. "My tricorder says that it's hardened mineral deposits. The kind that takes hundreds of years - maybe even a thousand - to form in caves. How did you make it form so fast like that? And why pink?"  
  
Galen gently tisked while waving a finger at him. "You should know that a good magician never reveals their secrets."  
  
"Except to their apprentices," Dureena added. "I definitely look forward to hearing how you did that," she said to her teacher.  
  
Galen's interests were on the drone, however. "Amazing," he said in almost a whisper. "He resembles my father, Alwyn." He noticed his apprentice's look of inquiry. "I have not seem him since he and the other techno-mages left on their journey." The trapped drone that once was Robert McCall, sometimes known as the Equalizer, said nothing to this attention being given it. Instead, it studied it's situation and the substance it had been encased within.  
  
"It's so loud," Bester murmured painfully to himself while Lennier slowly circled the drone to contemplate this new enemy from every side.  
  
Scotty tried to make sense of what his tricorder was telling him about the drone, and was shaking his head in disbelief and horror. "You would think that a creature this advanced wouldn't have go around absorbing other races technology."  
  
"Consider the drone before you," Lennier said. "It resembles more an android or robot than a lifeform. Perhaps the Borg, being a type of machine race, do not have the spark to create but can only apply of the knowledge that they have accumulated."  
  
"Which would explain why they assimilate people as well as technology," Tom said as if a new concept was just coming to light. "In order to absorb new ideas and concepts that they themselves cannot come up with."  
  
All theories aside, Owen Paris was more concerned with what this captured drone actually meant for them. Could they use it or was it just a hazard to have around. "Is this safe?" the Starfleet admiral asked with concern to their close proximity to the drone.  
  
"Of course it is," Dureena said as she leaned in to look the drone eye to eye. The red light caused by the drone's prosthetic eye played across her face. "See," she said to the others. "It's perfectly safe."  
  
The tubules extended from the drone's wrist, cutting through the mineral deposit that entrapped the drone like it was butter.  
  
"Oh!" Dureena exclaimed, looking down at the two thin metal tubes that had suddenly stabbed her in the chest.  
  
"Dureena!" Galen called out in concern. He pulled her away from the drone and into her his arms. Her body was twitching as the nano-probes began spreading through out her body. "Dureena?" he asked. Tom helped Galen ease Dureena down onto the ground. Her face seemed to lose color as the grayish tendrils caused by the nanites creeped across it.  
  
Dureena's eyes fluttered. "Ga-Galen? It hurts!"  
  
The techno-mage had all of the hidden sensors on his person diagnosing her condition. The nanites were tearing through her body, setting up a metallic neural pathway in its wake. Sensor relays and control systems were being placed periodically throughout Dureena without regard to the pain that it caused. The nanites were claiming this new host body for the Borg.  
  
Galen grabbed the drone by the head, gripping it harshly. "Free her from whatever you did to her! Do you understand me!" The drone just stared at him with a zombie-like apathy.  
  
Galen turned back to Dureena, pushing Tom out of his way.  
  
"Dr. Bashir had something that should take the nanites out. And then-"  
  
Galen wasn't listening to the younger Paris. Dureena was more than an apprentice to him. She had become like a daughter. As he watched her eyes glaze over, he snapped like any father would. And lashed out at the drone. "You are many, but I strike at you all!"  
  
It looked like a little light blue rubber ball, but he threw it at the drone with all his might. "You shall not have her! Or any others!" The ball passed through the pink mineral deposits and then into the chest of the drone. The drone instantly began sputtering and choking. Various parts smoked or sparked. A thin black hose going from it's chest to it's neck burst, dripping a pale gray substance.  
  
Bester gasped in agony, falling to the ground and grabbing his head. The veins in his head throbbed visibly on his forehead and neck. And for a few seconds, everyone in the room could feel Bester's telepathic presence in their heads as if he were feeling about like a panicked blind man. He laid on the ground in a fetal position as Scotty and Tom tried to get him to relax and tell them what had happened. "It's been splintered," he murmured. "Shattered!" he gasped. "But shards remain." Then he mercifully passed out.  
  
"What did you just do?" asked Admiral Paris somewhat in awe and with a great deal of respect than he had shown the mage before.  
  
Guinin had come back over from where she had been dealing with Thomas Magnum and Broots. Seeing that Galen had returned his attention back to Dureena and wasn't responding to anyone else, she decided to state what she thought happened. "I could be wrong, but I think he just gave the Borg Collective uni-mind a stroke."  
  
*****  
  
TRUE LIES (1994) Harry Tasker - (Arnold Schwarzenegger) Helen Tasker - (Jamie Lee Curtis) Dana Tasker - (Eliza Dushku) Albert Gibson - (Tom Arnold)  
  
X-FILES (1993-2002) The Cigarette Smoking Man - (William B. Davis)  
  
THE EQUALIZER (1985-1989) Robert McCall - (Edward Woodward) also played Alwyn, Galen's father in a episode of CRUDADE  
  
BABYLON 5 (1994-1998) Michael Garibaldi - (Jerry Doyle)  
  
*****  
  
Author's notes: Well the Borg are down so that must mean everything is over. Wrong! I still have Lex Luthor a.k.a. Brainiac of Borg to do something with. Also there is Mark Gordon to work with. What to do about Kenny and so on.  
  
I hope everyone likes what I did with the Borg mindscape in Wade Welles' mind. Since Wade is off line, technically, from the Borg, and didn't automatically terminate, she would have to restructure her mind. Also, Seven of Nine always seemed to have all this memories from other people that had been assimilated that she would make reference to. I'm just trying to give my idea of how she is able to do that. Pretty cool, huh?  
  
Now to make sure we are on the same page. There are two Sydneys. One is Sydney Bloom from the short-lived series VR.5. The other is the Sydney for the Pretender. There are also two Dana's. Dana Scully from X-Files and now Dana Tasker from True Lies. Any other confusions?  
  
For those who may have forgotten, I mentioned Felicia Martins (played by Joan Jett with only one appearance on Highlander) as having been in the area trying to hunt down Kenny, the child Immortal. And now I have her facing off against Dominic Santini, and his being a young Immortal is how I can explain why he is alive again.  
  
As for Harry and Helen Tasker from the movie True Lies, I figure that such a big event as what is happening at the convention center should really attract some big government attention. Besides, Mulder had called Skinner on his cell phone and told him something was going on. Skinner had to call someone about it. Then there is the fact that I am planning to use another Arnold Schwarzenegger in a later story. And you all must have noticed by now that I have a lot of body doubles floating around. I have their daughter, Dana Tasker, as an intern agent because the movie seemed to indicate at the end that she was now becoming more involved with her father's work. Plus, it has been a few years so she would be older as well.  
  
Regarding Alfred Bester, the Psi-Corp cop that we all love to hate, I'm planning to use an idea that AlbertG suggested. Somebody else suggested something for Lennier that I also think is a good idea. But I'm not telling right now. You will have to read and find out for yourselves later.  
  
Our angel friends, Monica, Andrew, Tess (from Touched By An Angel) and Jonathan (from Highway To Heaven) will all be back soon. Including the Devil (from Brimstone). Don't want you to think I forgot them.  
  
The snake-like Selay and the dog-like Anticans are two races that warred against each other and both tried to get Federation membership in the ST:TNG -Lonely Among Us episode. Oi-Rtlier of Primus IV was totally made up by me so don't go tearing through your Star Trek reference books trying to find him.  
  
Continually thinking of new plots.  
  
A ten year reunion / murder mystery for the kids from the Breakfast Club. John, the rebellious one, is murdered and the others are trying to find out who killed him. I would lay out the different ups and downs the previous ten years had taken them before exposing their old principal as the murder. If you remember in the movie, when the principal had gotten John alone, he had said that in ten years he'd come after him and that's how the whole plot formed in my head around that.  
  
An 80's version of League of Extra-Ordinary Gentlemen. I was thinking of using a number of characters from 80's movies as a team put together by President Reagan for unusual missions, calling them Reagan's Regulators. Characters from Back to the Future, Teen Wolf, The Fly II, Buckaroo Banzi, Cocoon, Rambo, Honey I shrunk the kids and some other movies I just can't think of right now would be brought together and asked to take on things like the Blob, Predator, or even communicating with the creatures from the Abyss.  
  
This one won't ever happen but have a villain in the Buffyverse use something I call the Shard of Possibilities which traps her and various doubles of herself and friends and foes from various parallel realities inside it and have to fight till either good or evil prevail. There would be about 4 or 5 different versions of Buffy herself, for example. You really have to wrap your brain around alternate realities to really enjoy something like this which is something I can really get into if it is written well.  
  
I also have ideas for various comic book story lines which may never happen and are too many and varied to name here. I was a big fan of Jess Nevin's Liberators series on the MV1 site. Highly recommend it as it is well written, if a tad dark at times. It's a collection of Marvel/Timely WWII heroes formed into a group called the Liberators. The Liberators fight on the side of the Allies during WWII and fight a large number of Axis super- powered soldiers. I've actually thought about taking the series up and continuing it. I just might do it yet, if I get Jess's approval. You can find it on the MV1 Marvel Comics fanfiction website under the Tapestry section.  
  
I've also pondered a crossover with Philip Jose Farmer's Riverworld series. The Riverworld concept is that aliens had set up a device on Earth to record all of mankinds memories from caveman time to the early 1980's. Than on a terraformed world in another galaxy, everyone who had ever lived and died suddenly wakes up new and refreshed on the shore of the river that weaves all around the planet. Farmer had used a number of historically famous people to get together to find the source of the river and try discover the reason for their resurrection. For my crossover, I'd include the heroes and villains of the DC comic books. Those that had powers would still have them, but those that used devices or weapons would have to try make something work for them on Riverworld. 


	10. chapter 10

THE ROOF OF THE ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER Through the haze, Helen heard the doors of the helicopter being forced open. But it wasn't until she felt someone taking off her harness that she reacted. And that was with her fist.  
  
"Easy, Helen. It's me. Lee Stetson. Scarecrow," she heard through the fog.  
  
"Lee? Scarecrow? Did you invite us over for dinner again? I don't think the wine agreed with me."  
  
"Snap out of it, Helen," he said, removing the final seat strap. He pulled her towards him and pulled her arm over his neck. "Grissom, are you okay?" he asked the man with the bloodied nose.  
  
Gil Grissom looked up, a bloody handkerchief over his nose. The look on his face was pained and angry.  
  
"Get up and help the others off that helicopter." Lee started to turn around but offered one more piece of advice. "And next time - duck." He wisely hurried away before Grissom could respond.  
  
"Where's Harry?" mumbled Helen.  
  
Lee bit his lip for a moment before saying anything. "I don't know." He had gotten to know Harry and Helen Tasker pretty well the last few years. Before Helen entered the business, Lee and Harry had been semi-friendly rivals. But once their wives met all rivalry had been set aside and they had become close friends. It's hard to keep a rivalry going when your wife keeps inviting your opponent and his wife over for dinner.  
  
"On the ground," Helen said, slowly remembering. "He was coordinating everything from." She got her first good look at her surroundings which unfortunately happened to include a downed drone sputtering and jerking where it lay on the ground. "What is that?!?"  
  
"It's what you came here to fight," Lee said. He stopped, looking back to see how the others were faring. Hooker and A.J. Simon were each helping one of the black-clad ops men from the chopper. Hawk was attempting to liberate one of the machine guns from its housing with little luck. Briscoe and Grissom were just getting the last man out. Stetson returned his attention back to Helen. "Are you with us yet? Do you know what Harry was planning."  
  
Tess, who was in charge of security for the building, came over before Lee was able to get very far. "Can't you see the woman has just had the sense knocked out of her?!" The plus-sized black woman helped Helen sit on the ground with her back to one of the vents. "Give her a minute to set everything in order before you start asking her things! If anything, you should start by telling her what just happened up here so she can get her bearings!"  
  
"I thought I told you to watch Murtaugh!" Lee snapped. The California police detective Roger Murtaugh had been trying his best at bashing in a drone's head when he had been injected with nanites from behind. Now he sat in a zombie-like state as the grayish veins spread across his hands and face. The rest of the people there avoided him after the attack suddenly ended, because they knew that it could very well have been them sitting there, covered in grayish veins. And that thought hadn't set well with anyone.  
  
"He's not going anywhere, so it's pointless for me to watch him," she snapped. "Besides, Sydney is over there examining him. I was watching you trying to help this woman. However, all your badgering is seems to be only more troubling for her."  
  
Lee wanted to let Tess know just who was in charge, but he could see that she had been right about Helen. It would be a few moments before she could give him any truly useful information. And he did owe it to Helen to tell her what was going on. For the most part, she took it well. However, there were still moments when she would look up at him as though he must be making this stuff up. "After you started ferrying people down from the roof, the Borg came out of a far roof access. Some came attacking us, but they also caught your chopper in some sort of tractor beam and brought it down hard on the roof."  
  
"There was another chopper caught, too, wasn't there?" she asked, trying to confirm her frightening memory of the events. She had a good bump on her forehead, but no blood, for which she was grateful.  
  
"It went spinning off wildly after the Borg all seemed to break down." Seeing the concern in her eyes, he added, "I think the pilot must have got the chopper under control in time. I didn't hear any crashes or explosions."  
  
Helen took in her surroundings again now that the world didn't seem to be spinning so madly. The helicopter she had landed hit the roof rather hard as it had partially impacted into the roof four to seven inches. The roof access the drones had used was easily discernible from the trail of twenty or more collapsed, twitching bodies that began there. Not all were on the ground; a few were wandering aimlessly. One kept trying to walk through a wall that it didn't seem to realize was there. Another was sitting, staring straight a head. Still another walked aimlessly until it fell over the side of the roof.  
  
"How did all this happen?" Mrs. Tasker asked.  
  
"Still haven't much information on that," Lee stated. "But I aim to find out."  
  
Four of the twitching drones suddenly went still. Then, without preamble, righted themselves and sought to get to their feet. Briscoe, realizing what that could mean, suddenly pushed his ops guy and Grissom behind the grounded helicopter without warning, diving on top of them.  
  
"Guys!" Lee shouted.  
  
The closest of the four fired off a warning shot at Rick Simon's feet. The man had been about to rush the drone, thus possible sacrificing himself for the others. "We bring you a warning," stated the drone in it's monotone voice. "The Borg Collective has been shattered."  
  
"Well, you aren't going to fix it by inducting us!" shouted Hawk. The strong black man was about to fire a machine gun that he'd found in the helicopter when a light beam fired from one of the other four drones struck it. Before he could drop the suddenly hot metal weapon, it vaporized without harming him.  
  
"We do not wish to fight. We only wish to warn you," stated the lead drone.  
  
After motioning Tess to move Helen back, Lee looked closely at the head drone. By trying to imagine him without the red-laser eye piece, the black leather and the chalky white skin, he suddenly realized that this was, or rather used to be, Cordell Walker, the ranger from Texas who had been helping fight off the drones down below until he had been overwhelmed. "Warn us about what?" he said, trying to think objectively.  
  
"The other."  
  
A phaser fire struck the Walker drone from behind, causing parts of the Borg uniform and tubules to rupture and burn off. The drone fell down face first, dead.  
  
As Lee dived for cover, he noticed the three remaining drones who had been trying to communicate with him were joined in attacking his people by seven other drones. Checking the position of his men, he saw they were all trying to drag or push the ops guys toward what little cover was available on the roof.  
  
Thomas Hooker dove behind a roof vent at the same moment Lee did, causing them to collide. "What the #@%% is going on?!?" Hooker growled. His eyes were wide with fear.  
  
"If I live long enough to find out, I'll be sure to let you know," Lee yelled back.  
  
Helen, witnessing the chaos, immediately thought of her husband. She reached for her headset, but discovered it had not survived the helicopter crash. Pulling out her sidearm, she mentally prepared herself to put some holes in people. Sneaking a peek, however, made her wonder who she should fire at. Borg were attacking Borg. When your potential friend and your attacker look exactly alike, how do you know who to shoot? And is the enemy of your enemy really your friend if they are actually malfunctioning killer cyborgs?  
  
*****  
  
SOMEWHERE IN A WORKING FRAGMENT OF THE BORG COLLECTIVE Lex checked his standing once again. He had managed to salvage and bring one hundred and twelve of the mostly functioning drones under his control. There had been one thousand and thirty-four functioning units but a majority of the drones were now beyond use because of the power surge that had disrupted the Collective Uni-mind. He couldn't tell how many his rival had managed to appropriate.  
  
Lex Luthor and his rival had both suddenly found themselves freed from the shackles of the Borg Queen and her directives after the power surge. Both had also seen their opportunity to gain control over the other drones in that moment. As they tried to reclaim other fragments of the Collective and became aware of each other, they realized that neither was going to step aside. So the fighting, internally and externally, began. While Lex could not access the fragmented Borg consciousness that his rival occupied, he could still use his drones to gather information and fight for him.  
  
"You can't out maneuver me. I'm a Luthor. And Luthors win." Lex, sat in the cyberspace he had created in what remained of the Borg Uni-mind. Using his Borg resources to pull up all information again on the Ferengi known as Dverl. Fortunately, Lex's source of information consisted of the memories of a former crewmate and rival of Dverl's, Gint , former first mate on the Flarqesf Snixek. This was the only remaining information relating to Dverl in Lex's fragment. He planned to use it to his advantage. A miniaturized holographic image of Gint, mangled lobes and all, appeared an inch above the center of Lex's desk.  
  
He had created the office himself. It was almost an exact duplicate of his father's office in Metropolis, but the normal scenic view of the city had been replaced with rows and rows of holographic people who had been forcibly inducted into the Borg. It wasn't the complete Borg mind. A majority of the mind had been irreplaceably wiped out. Yet that still left a huge remnant over which he and Dverl could battle to control. All manner of knowledge to be regained and used. It was Lex's intention to overwhelm Dverl so that he could add all the data that the Ferengi had managed to save and add it to his own.  
  
Even as he surveyed his little kingdom made up of the memories of roughly a half billion sentients, a small fragment of what the Borg mind had been, his mind also worked on applying battle tactics, shield variations, weapons energy levels of the drones he had on the roof. He was also trying to bring a few of the less damaged drones back on line, a task that he could sense his rival was also trying to accomplish. "It's not how many you have, but how you use them that wins the war."  
  
Lex walked back to his desk, letting himself sink into its comfortable confines. "If only my dad could see me now," he said with a slight grin. He became still as he mentally restructured and fought for his new empire.  
  
"You know that your friends will try to stop you," a voice said to his left.  
  
Lex, caught totally off guard, morphed his features to that of a drone with weapon appendage primed and tubules extended. There in the corner of his virtual reality office was his father. No, he corrected himself, not his father but the one who looked exactly like him in this parallel universe. The man that claimed to be the Devil. "How are you here? Why are you here?"  
  
"Am I here?" mocked the Devil. "Maybe I'm just a part of your subconscious, trying to show you things that you already know but don't want to face."  
  
"Explain or leave." He rather hoped the Devil would leave. He had numerous sensors tracking him so that when he did go, Lex should be able to block him from access ever again.  
  
"Not buying it, huh? Well," the Devil began to stroll around the room as if he were casually looking around. "Then just think of me as a fellow conqueror trying to take what I want out of life."  
  
"You wish to take the Collective I have recovered. My collective." Lex began mentally fashioning defenses, though he wasn't sure they would be effective against the entity before him.  
  
The Devil dismissed Lex's notion of accumulating the Borg mind with a shake of his head. "Hardly. I have bigger plans than this mental collection that you've managed to keep from being erased."  
  
"Explain," Lex insisted. His battle with Dverl needed his full attention if he was going to persevere. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted for long.  
  
"My plans are my own," he stated flatly, giving Lex a dark glare before looking out the window at the multitude of drone holograms. "But I think you will find that your friends will be in conflict with yours."  
  
Lex came from around his desk. His red tracking eye and weapon arm focused on the professed fallen angel. "I was attempting to ally myself with them when my opponent attacked my drones."  
  
"In order to gain the Collective shards that Dverl has accumulated for himself. Yes, I know all that." The Devil sighed and put his hands behind his back. "But do you really think that your allies, some of which are your friends, will let you keep all your drones, the Collective mind, or even stay in your present form? Or appreciate the fact that you want their help in getting the remaining Collective shards for yourself?"  
  
"I know what you are trying to do. You are trying to get me to help you in some way." Lex closed the distance between himself and the Devil. The whole discussion was beginning to sound all too similar to past conversations that he had had with his father. "I'm not interested in what you want with me. I have things of my own to look after. From now on I'm not interested in what my father or you want. I'm doing things my way." To empathize his point, he attempted to lash out with the tubules of his left hand but the Devil was no longer there. Nor was he anywhere else that Lex could detect through the sensors provided by the Borg. "I'm doing things my way! My way and no one elses!" he yelled in the empty room.  
  
In the real world, the Devil smiled as he looked at the Rosemont Center a block away. "Your way, my way. Doesn't really matter since the results will be the same." On top of the center he could see flashes of weaponry being used. "Yes, Lex, you truly could have been the son of the Devil." He turned away laughing.  
  
*****  
  
INSIDE THE ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER Broots nudged Magnum, but kept his voice low. "Are you following any of this?"  
  
Magnum paused as if giving the question some thought. Both men were sitting on the red carpeted steps of a very stylish staircase leading up to the second level. "I think I am.but I'm really wanting to doubt myself."  
  
Broots straightened. "But what are they trying to do? Why are they all here? Those cyborgs were chasing everybody with any sense out of here. Why do these guys want to face them?"  
  
Magnum thought about smacking Broots aside the head but decided the frightened man had already been through a lot today; he didn't need people hitting him, too. "I'm pretty sure they are here to stop the very things we had been trying to get away from." He looked over the group talking amongst themselves. "But I think they all have their own reasons."  
  
"But they are so different from each other. How can they be working together? Some of them even seem to be introducing themselves to each other for the first time."  
  
Magnum nodded as what Broots said agreed with his assessment. The British man with the fedora hat and bushy hair seemed to be a very unlikely ally for the spandex-clad military who claimed to belong to an organization called Starfleet. Yet they obviously knew each other - at least enough to argue. Somehow the three swordmen that Magnum and Broots had run into earlier had also joined the British man's group. That group consisted of a detective in a raincoat, a young boy busily tinkering with a metal model of a dog, and a gruff, bearded older man who seemed to be both angry and in the midst of despair. The other half of the so-called Starfleet group were dealing with injured comrades. The young woman that had been injected with the gray stuff that took over a person's body was being treated by an intense bald man that seemed not to acknowledge anyone else but his patient. Part of his treatment included numerous wires extending from his left sleeve and flowing directly into her body in select areas. The unconscious man with the Russian accent was being tended by the son of the Starfleet admiral. A different bald man, with a bony protrusion that made Magnum wince every time he looked in his direction, was aiding the red- and black-spandexed man.  
  
"Are you two thirsty?" Guinin stood before them with soda cans in her hands. Her El-Aurian dress and hat made the long-scarfed man and the people in the colorful spandex uniforms look normal. "Now you look like a 7-Up man, Broots," she said tossing a can gently to the startled man who barely caught it. "And I believe you drink Coke, right?" she asked Magnum.  
  
"That's right," Thomas replied, reaching out for the can before she could toss it toward him.  
  
Broots opened his can right away. He held the fizzing beverage at arm's length, letting the overflow spill onto the carpet. Sipping on his wet fingers, he put a question to the strange dark woman. "Guinin, what are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm serving you drinks. It's what I do," she answered with a tone of amusement.  
  
"No. Seriously," Broots demanded. The world had gone crazy and he was tired of not understanding why.  
  
"I am serious. I'm a bartender. I serve drinks."  
  
"So you're not an alien or anything like that?"  
  
Guinin regarded the two men for a moment. "Actually, by your definition, I am an alien. But some of my companions are Human."  
  
Magnum snorted pop up his nose. After coughing for a second, he wiped his mustache and glared at the woman before him. "You shouldn't joke with all that's been going on," he told her. "An alien bartender? All that's missing is a rabbi and a talking parrot."  
  
Guinin regarded Magnum intently for a moment before answering. "Do you really think that people on Earth are the only beings in the universe to have ever developed a taste for intoxicating beverages?" She only gave him a moment to wrap his mind around that concept before continuing. "I take my job very seriously. People come to my bar not only for the beverages and atmosphere, but because I listen. And after I listen to what they have to say, I let them know what they have been saying. Or not been saying, as the case may be."  
  
Broots interjected. "So you're like a psychiatrist?" He leaned forward, taking a sip of his 7-Up. He was warming up to the subject, using it as a useful distraction from the chaos he had just experienced.  
  
"Not so much psychiatrist; more of a very good listener." She turned and took a seat on the steps just in front of the two men. "You see, my people were renowned for their ability to listen and understand."  
  
"What's so hard about that?"  
  
"Ah, but we could understand that which wasn't being said. We can sense some joys and sorrows people have - even some of the problems people are dealing with." Guinin studied the group of people in the room. "The young boy there, Kenny I believe his name was, is a lot older than he looks. And he's starting to listen to his conscience but doubts he could follow it through. He is terrified of the three men with the Doctor but believes he is safe as long as there are others around." She paused in surprise. "He has killed in order to survive! And has done so many times before!"  
  
"He's just a kid," he said dismissively. Magnum wasn't sure what the strangely attired woman was trying to do. Usually, people who tried to pass themselves off as psychic were very vague in their answers - not giving pointed answers on very direct subjects.  
  
"What about that brooding guy over there?" Broots found Guinin's abilities to be of great interest. Perhaps she could enlighten them about some of the mysterious people in the hall.  
  
Guinin was about to decline revealing more about people when she happened to see the man Broots had pointed out talking with the others. "He's experienced more than others in life. He can and will fight if he has to but will try not to if he can help it." Guinin's eyes examined Methos lithe form with an experienced eye. "He's well practiced with the blade."  
  
"How did you know he had a sword?" Magnum asked. The three men that had drawn their weapons on him and Broots earlier was not something he was going to forget anytime soon. "Did you know him before this?"  
  
Guinin shook her head lightly. "I've never seen him before." She shuddered slightly as she continued her examination of the man. "Death follows him and he is afraid of what that might mean."  
  
"All right, just stop all this!" Magnum said, getting up on his feet. Her amused expression diffused most of his anger, but not his frustration. "What! This is a lot to take from someone who says they are an alien bartender."  
  
With a enigmatic smile, Guinin produced a small vial from one of folds in her clothing. Without explanation, she took a sip of the red liquid within, swallowed, then offered the rest of it's contents to Magnum. "One of the many drinks that I serve," she stated.  
  
Thomas Magnum knew he couldn't turn down the offer. If he ever mentioned to his friends that he had been offered a drink said to have been brewed under another star and he turned it down, they would never let him hear the end of it. The small container felt warm to the touch. He lifted it to his nose and detected a copper-like smell. Without another thought, he quickly drank the beverage to the last drop. Before his taste buds analyzed it too deeply, he swallowed it and let his stomach deal with the consequences. "Not too bad. Quite a kick," he commented, with his face contorted for a few seconds. "What was it?"  
  
"Congratulations, detective," the bartender said. "You are the first person on your planet to try Klingon Bloodwine," she informed him. "That was one of the samples from the K'Tarr family winery. They are very well-known for their Bloodwine vintages. They're hoping that I could recommend them to some people I know so they can increase distribution off-planet." She took out another little red bottle, opened it, and carefully sniffed the liquid inside. "Now this is one of their more potent products. Much more favorable, too. Care to try it?" she said holding it out to the Hawaiian private detective.  
  
Magnum, ever so slightly clutched at his stomach. "Are you trying to say that I just drank blood?"  
  
"That is one of the main ingredients for bloodwine. Though I think that the myth that they only use the blood of their enemies is an extreme exaggeration." She slowly sipped from the new bottle. Looking up at a now pale Magnum, she winked. "Everybody knows that every good bloodwine brewer always adds a little of his own blood to the mix for authenticity."  
  
"Wow!" Broots was impressed. "What other kinds of drinks do you have?"  
  
Guinin pulled out a clear vial containing a blue liquid. "Now this is." The small vial was snatched out of her hands before she could finish.  
  
"Romulan Ale! I knew you were holding out on me, lass!" Scotty said. He examined the blue liquid as if it were a rare treasure.  
  
"Now what did your mother teach you about stealing?" Guinin chided, holding out her hand for the vial.  
  
"To always return things when you are done with them," he said. He sniffed at the unstoppered vial. "Lovely." He stopped from going any further with his plans when a hand clamped down hard on his shoulder.  
  
"Give it back," Mark Gordon gruffly insisted. The bearded ex-cop was not having a good day and was more than willing to take his frustrations out on someone that didn't know how to be a gentleman.  
  
"Now boys," Guinin said as she stepped in and took the vial back from Scotty, "play nice."  
  
"I was just having fun there, man. I wouldn'ta had a drop of the stuff without her permission," insisted Mr. Scott. Mark, seeing he might have been hasty in judging the man's intent, released the pressure he had been applying to the man's shoulder and grunted an apology. The older engineer decided they might need a change of subject. "So what were you all talking about before we interrupted?"  
  
"Guinin said that Death was following that lanky, grim-looking guy over there," Broots replied, trying to steer the subject away from the alcoholic beverages. Then seeing that Methos and Connor were near each other he added, "Uh, the one on the left."  
  
"Death?" Mark perked up. His eyes quickly glanced over at Methos direction.  
  
A cry rang out from the second floor, propelling everyone to their feet. Magnum turned around just in time to see the body of a dark-haired young man roll down the steps quickly followed by a wheelchair. The island detective tried to stop the young man's descent but miscalculated the kid's weight and was bowled over.  
  
Mark and Scotty managed to grab the wheelchair before it landed on the prone figures of Magnum and the young man, then went to their aid. On bended knee, Guinin examined the young man as a groaning Magnum rolled to the side. A couple of young women hurried down the stairs in obvious alarm. The dark-haired young woman was followed quickly down by a blonde girl to the fallen figure that they called Clark.  
  
"Is he. Is he.?" The dark-haired woman couldn't complete the question. Her eyes asked Guinin of Clark's well-being.  
  
A look of surprise crossed Guinin's face. "He shattered the tile under his head. But he seems to be fine." That was quite a statement considering the fall down the stairs they had just witnessed. Plus, the young man's shirt was burned off in patches both in front and back. Yet, other than severe red marks, there was no burning.  
  
"The fall wouldn't have hurt him," remarked the Doctor. The time-lord adjusted his scarf as he stepped past the young man with an attitude of unconcern. Instead, he took two steps up the stairs to meet his traveling companion, Leela, who was descending. A very annoyed Guinin snagged the Doctor's scarf and pulled. The Gallifrian staggered back but managed to catch hold of the banister. "What do you think you are doing?"  
  
Guinin ignored the question, keeping a firm grip on the scarf. "You're a doctor. You should be the one down here."  
  
"I'm not that type of doctor!" The Doctor pulled the scarf away, then held a hand out to Leela in order slow her angry descent toward the alien bartender. "Besides," he said as he readjusted his scarf in a manner that kept if out of her grasp, "Clark is Kryptonian. A fall down the stairs like that wouldn't hurt him in the least." Turning his attention back to his leather-clad female companion, he asked the questions currently on his mind. "How was Clark injured?"  
  
As Leela filled in those that were listening, Methos took the moment to take stock of the situation. Everybody had come together in one place. The one they called a techno-mage had somehow disabled the Borg. The drones were dead or dying. But what about Duncan? The reason he, Remington, and Connor had banded together in the first place was to find Duncan. Even if Ducan had been turned into a Borg drone, he should still be alive. And probably in need of help.  
  
He was about to say something when he noticed a man standing there at the end of the hall. The man in white met his eyes and then turned and walked away. He wasn't surprised that no one else seemed to see the newcomer. The ancient Immortal felt a chill run down his spine, but it didn't stop him from following the angel of death. "Andrew, what are you leading me into?" he murmured. Wherever they were headed, he was sure that it would lead him to Duncan.  
  
Mark Gordon spotted Methos heading around the corner and made to follow him. He wasn't prepared to find that he wasn't alone in his decision. "What do you think you are doing?"  
  
Scotty just smiled. "Thought I'd see where the other fella was going," he said in a thick brogue. "The Borg may be down but I doubt it's safe to go wandering by one's self."  
  
Mark didn't see any reason to argue. He had already let the Big Guy and Jonathan down by letting Lex get taken by the Borg. Keeping an eye on the guy who was supposedly about to die seemed to be the best thing to do at the moment.  
  
No one noticed they were missing for several minutes. Connor was not at all pleased to discover he'd been left behind. But he didn't have any time to do anything about it. Clark was starting to rouse, drawing everyone's attention. Guinin entered into a forceful discussion with the Doctor and Admiral Paris. And then drones began marching down the stairs towards them.  
  
*****  
  
Moving into the small wooded park area behind the building, Barney tried to keep from shaking as he followed behind the reptilian humanoid, Garak. He was about to ask his strange ally yet again if they should be doing this when Garak suddenly stopped, still.  
  
Gulping down the knot that had formed in his throat, Barney crept up the last two feet to stand next to his new acquaintance. They were both shielded from view by a low branch that was thick with leaves. But they could see Dominic Santini and Stringfellow Hawk twenty feet away from them working to lift the manhole on a storm drain just below a slope and near the street on the other side of the small park.  
  
"What-what are they doing?" Barney rasped.  
  
Garak winced at the loud noise from the old man. But, thankfully, the men they were spying on were too engrossed in their labor to overhear his comrade. Besides, he doubted that either of them had had their hearing potential artificially increased as he had. "Sheriff Fife, if I knew what they were doing we wouldn't have to watch them now, would we?"  
  
Barney nodded to the logic. "And this is where that lightning you saw hit, right?"  
  
His trained eye noted the energy burn patches on the grass and trees caused by the lightning, but was surprised at the concentration. Even the nearby pole that had previously shown light into the park had somehow been knocked down. A parked car had its headlights and windshield blown out and steam and smoke poured out from the hood. "I'm not so sure that it was lightning."  
  
Before Barney could ask Garak how he came to that conclusion, the country sheriff began going into wide-eyed shock as he watched Stringfellow and Santini lift the limp body of a woman and carry it to the now open storm drain. To his growing horror, he realized that the corpse didn't have a head.  
  
"Very strange," Garak whispered to himself.  
  
"Strange!?!" Barney said in growing hysterics. "Strange? It's murder! They're trying to hide the body so they can get away with murder!" He was really wishing he had the gun he'd left back in Mayberry - even with just the one bullet he always kept loaded in it.  
  
Garak hastily shushed the terrified man. "There seems to be more to this than simple murder. For one thing, the body seems fresh yet I see no blood. The neck wound must have been cauterized."  
  
"Cauterized?" Barney yelped as quietly as he could. "You mean they burned the stump of her neck so that it wouldn't bleed all over?" He stomach flip- flopped.  
  
The two men they had been watching began to search the ground for something. Stringfellow talked harshly in low tones to his friend who was searching along the edge of some blackberry bushes.  
  
"What are they doing now?" Barney asked, though he suspected he might already know the answer.  
  
"Consider what is missing from the picture. They have dealt with the decapitated body, but not the head. And there is also the instrument that they used to.ah. Dominic seems to have found it."  
  
Dominic Santini held up a short sword for his friend to see. Then wiped it expertly with a handkerchief from his pocket before sliding the weapon away on his person.  
  
Garak blinked in surprise. "I'd like to know how he did that. To be able to hide a weapon of that size on one's person could be very useful to know."  
  
Neither Fife nor Garak heard the person coming up behind them. "You know, guys, I don't think spying on people is very wise. At least, not so close," said a quiet voice.  
  
Garak was surprised at being caught off guard. But Barney's eyes bugged out of his head as he began his umpteenth panic attack of the night. Garak recognized the man as Marty Crane, the retired police officer who had been out walking his dog when he volunteered to help keep an area clear for Airwolf to land. "Mr. Crane, might I be wrong in concluding that you have some knowledge of these events?"  
  
Eddie was straining at his leash, trying to get at something in the bushes near Barney's feet. "I know a few things. But I think we should take that conversation elsewhere since Hawk and Santini will be heading this way to search soon. Those heads can really fly aways when cut off with a sword."  
  
This was too much. Barney half-collapsed into Garak's arms. Garak ended up dragging the elderly sheriff back around the building and halfway to the church before he became alert to the conversation Garak was having with Marty.  
  
Talk of secretive Immortals that were drawn to hunt each other and another group of secretive historians known as the Watchers who stored up volumes on the lives of the Immortals filled Barney's ears. "But why not let everybody know about this? Don't people have a right to know?" he asked.  
  
Garak sighed. "Think about it for a moment. Some would try to do whatever they could to gain Immortality, others might even try to kill off the Immortals because they saw them as some sort of unholy aberration."  
  
Marty heeled Eddie as they came to a stop. It was a nice shadowy area to conclude their talk without being interrupted. "We've actually had those problems," he admitted. "People fear what they don't understand and will often try stamping it out for that reason alone. or so my boys tell me." He weighed his opinion of Garak and Barney. "I need you two to not talk about what you saw here. That woman back there was as vile a killer as they come. She doesn't need someone to try avenge her. What happened to her was more poetic justice than anything else." He gave them a moment to consider. "So what do you say?"  
  
"Do you really think you can keep all this secret?" asked the country sheriff in disbelief.  
  
"We've been keeping these things quiet for hundreds of years." He looked over at Garak. "We've also managed to keep a lid on the alien thing, not to mention a few other doosies."  
  
"Well, I for one agree with your group's endeavors," answered the Cardassian. "There are some things the general public just isn't ready to know."  
  
Feeling a twinge of peer-pressure, Barney nodded in agreement. "I still don't agree with those Immortal people going around trying to cut off each others heads. It isn't civilized!"  
  
"But you will keep what you know to yourself?"  
  
"Of course I will! I don't want everybody to think I've gone crazy!" the scrawny old man huffed.  
  
Marty nodded thoughtfully. "You know, as long as you know the secret of the Immortals, perhaps you can help us keep tabs on an Immortal in your neck of the woods."  
  
"You want me to go following after some guy who runs around with a sword chopping off heads," he restated. "Are you crazy?! Do you have any idea." Barney froze for a minute as a thought came to him. "What do you mean in my 'neck of the woods'?"  
  
Garak raised his hand slightly. "I believe I know." At Martin Crane's nod, he continued. "You come from a small town where strangers such as these Watchers would stand out. But someone like you who has been there for years could do extensive information gathering without being noticed."  
  
Marty took over the conversation. "And you wouldn't have to do much more than check every couple of days to see what he up to. As I understand it, he's not a very interesting Immortal. But we like to keep track of where they are, make sure they are still alive, as well as to find out who finally kills them."  
  
Standing in the shadows, Barney knees began to shake. "I'll-I'll-I'll do it. But I'm not sticking around to watch the fights."  
  
"Don't worry about it; you wouldn't have to. Your Immortal probably wouldn't survive any challenges."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"The Mayberry Immortal is Gomer Pyle." Marty decided he should probably provide a few more details since Barney's jaw was hanging wide open. "We don't know what caused his first 'death', but somehow he learned what he was and chose to join the army as a means of learning some fighting skills."  
  
"But he's grown older. You said."  
  
"He doesn't want to leave Mayberry, so he uses makeup. A lot of makeup. Once a month, a package arrives from a major Hollywood cosmetic supplier. Over the years he's become very good at augmenting his appearance."  
  
Dumbfounded, Barney just stood there. Garak slapped the skinny man hard on the back in an attempt to bring him back to his senses. "I think you'll make an excellent spy! You'll just have to work on not being seen and not acting like you know something." Seeing the doubt in his eyes, Garak smiled. "Tell you what. Before I leave, I'll give you some pointers on how to see everything that is going on without yourself being seen."  
  
The three men continued their walk back towards the church. "Marty," the Cardassian inquired, "why did you become a Watcher?"  
  
The old man tapped his cane on the sidewalk. "Well, it's like this. My wife and I had two boys. I love my sons. But they drive me crazy. I had to find something to get me out every now and then so I didn't go nuts."  
  
Eddie barked as a large black vehicle pulled up to the church. "Hush, Eddie." He looked at the other two. "Are you expecting company?"  
  
Garak nodded. "Yes. Agents Mulder of your Federal Bureau of Investigation. I don't know where the others that he left with went. But he seem to have picked up some female companions."  
  
One of the two women in question was being very authoritative toward the other two agents. Even though Mulder and Scully were not arguing with her, she was obviously trying to establish her authority. However all that seemed to change once she saw Garak. She drew her weapon and pointed it at him as more of a fear reflex than anything else. Garak merely smiled and stated with his right arm raised in salute, "I come in peace." The young woman's eyes rolled up in her head and she fainted.  
  
"I love that," Garak quipped.  
  
*****  
  
Hello, dear readers  
  
September 7th is my birthday so please send reviews! I'm turning 35. I can legally feel old now.  
  
Sorry it's been so long but I've got another new job. I'm working days now but I'm working 8am to 8pm at a very physically demanding job from Monday to Saturday. Don't have as much time to write as I'd like. But I'm trying.  
  
I'm getting closer to wrapping things up for this universe. I really do have a plan - sort of. Anyway, it's coming along quite well I think. And I want to finish soon because I really want to start on the next part already.  
  
Again, please send review. Love them. And I have used peoples suggestions before so if you have one and I think I can work it in, I just might.  
  
*****  
  
ANDY GRIFFITH SHOW, THE (1963-1964) GOMER PYLE, U.S.M.C. (1964-1970) Gomer Pyle - (Jim Nabors)  
  
***** 


	11. chapter 11

Jessica patted her forehead with her sleeve. She stepped back as the last ambulance, this one transporting Doug and Joey Penhall, took off to the nearest hospital. The sixty-ish female mystery writer almost wished she had warranted a good excuse to leave the premises of the Rosemont Convention Center. Not that anyone was forcing her to stay or would even blame her if she left, she just knew that people were in short supply and that if she stayed she could help. She sighed. Sometimes a conscience could be a huge liability.  
  
She passed by Mr. and Mrs. Columbo trying her best to pretend that she didn't notice them arguing. Kate wanted to stay and lend a hand, while her husband, the lieutenant, wanted her as far from the area as she could go while he stayed. Jessica just silently shook her head and kept her tongue to herself.  
  
She rather wished she had someone who cared enough to argue with her, but it had been a long time since Cupid had drawn his bow in her direction. The bald man who seemed to have a fetish for lollipops had winked at her earlier in the evening before everything had gone chaotic. That had started a few surprised butterflies flying in her stomach. Since then she had seen him wink at a number of women and had come to the conclusion that winking was just his way of saying hello.  
  
Looking around for Amanda King-Stetson, she stepped off the parking lot and onto the sidewalk near the water fountain. Amanda, Jessica had found out, was a fan of her novels and was also somehow connected to the leader of the men that had arrived in helicopters. Just how Amanda was tied to Harry, Jessica, even with all her literary talent, could not conceive. Amanda seemed more of a middle-aged middle to higher income housewife than anything else to Jessica.  
  
The man she knew only as Harry was easy to spot. He was large and very intense. He had cold calculating eyes that seemed to evaluate strong and weak points wherever he looked. Right now he was focusing those eyes on the building before him and talking into his radio headset.  
  
What few men that he had brought with him were trying to spread themselves around the base of the Convention Center in order to ensure that the Borg did not escape. This made it all the more necessary for him to accept the aid of those that had just fled from that building. Amanda had managed to convince him of that fact though he did insist that they could help with things away from the building - not in fighting. Basically that had turned out to mean that Jessica and the others were to get the wounded to safety and keep bystanders from getting close to the building.  
  
The female mystery writer sat down heavily on a cement bench next to water fountain. She lifted hand up to her forehead almost dramatically after having dipped it in the cool water. Taking a deep breath, she mentally evaluated how tired she was. It had been a long night and still showed no sign of ending. She eased off her shoes that she had been running in all night and, after a quick look around to make sure no one was paying attention to her, turned and put both feet in the cool, refreshing water. Silently, she cursed whoever it was that decided that it was fashionable to wear high heels.  
  
Having rested her eyes a moment, she went to look for Amanda again only to have her pass right by her and heading towards Harry. Jessica quickly swiveled to bring her feet out of the pool, shaking her feet to get some of the water off but decided at the last moment that they were still too wet to put back into her shoes. Retrieving her shoes with her left hand, she hurried after Amanda.  
  
Even though she had no desire to be closer to the action, Jessica did know that there was a story in this. And even if the government never allowed her to publish the events that happened this night, there were so many remarkable personalities about that she had to stay to commit them to memory.  
  
She almost turned around when she saw that Amanda had been introducing Harry to Jarod and Miss Parker. The novelist had already discerned that the dark haired woman had been hurt horribly in the past - most likely by a childhood incident - and had become extremely embittered as a result. But since she had obviously never dealt with the issues within her, Catherine inflicted her inner turmoil verbally on those around her, and in doing so won her no charity with Jessica.  
  
Jarod, on the other hand, struck Jessica as an overgrown Boy Scout. She had taken an instant shine to the helpful young man even though he was a recent arrival. There was something about the man that made her want to believe he just wanted to help people simply because liked to. But for some reason, which Jessica couldn't put her finger on, Jarod seemed attracted to Catherine Parker. He wasn't obvious in his feelings, but the novelist was sure it was there.  
  
She was standing at the side for only a moment before interjecting on a part of the conversation that she had overheard. "You're going to try go in there? Are you insane?" blurted Jessica.  
  
Amanda was taken aback to see the mystery writer there. "Jessica? Jessica, what are you doing here?"  
  
Harry turned toward one of his men forty feet away, signaling him with hand motions since all telephone and radio communication had suddenly gone down. If he was going to have a chance to rescue his wife and those under his command up on the roof, he would have to move quickly. Catherine used that moment to try convince Jarod of the futility of entering the building. All this was happening while Amanda pulled Jessica off to the side.  
  
"Jessica, I told you to go with the others on the ambulance."  
  
"The ambulances left with the wounded. They didn't have room to shuttle anyone else. Besides, you need all the-"  
  
"Jessica, you can't help if you are injured."  
  
"But I'm not-" A sudden memory of running from the center after the helicopter crashed on the roof came to her. She had looked up to the sound of the crash as she hurried. Her foot had struck something, and she had just had enough time to turn back and see. a sign? "I'm hurt?" She gently scratched at itchy spot on the right side of her forehead, only to recoil at the sight of blood on her fingertips.  
  
Amanda was immediately pulling a handkerchief and dabbed at Jessica's head wound. "Your bleeding again, Jessica. Why didn't you go on the ambulance? They would be better able to treat you than we would."  
  
Jessica found herself at a loss. "But I'm bleeding!"  
  
Amanda leaned forward to look at Jessica's eyes. "Oh no! Jessica, I'm so sorry I didn't notice sooner! I think you might have a concussion."  
  
"But I don't have time for a concussion. I have to help and learn about people so that I can write. But I still don't think that anyone should go inside that place." She looked hard into Amanda's eyes. "It's not safe."  
  
"I know," Amanda agreed. "But my husband is in there. And I have to do what ever I can to get him and anyone else safely out of there." She quickly waved over John Byers, who was followed by Murray Bozinsky. "Jessica, I want you to go with John. He'll make sure that you get the proper medical treatment. Won't you, John?"  
  
John nodded, and then offered his arm to Jessica. "It would be my pleasure."  
  
Seeing that she didn't have much choice, Jessica took his arm, for which she was grateful since she suddenly felt a dizzy spell coming on. "It's still my opinion that you shouldn't let anyone go in there. And ."  
  
"Jessica?"  
  
The novelist shook her head to try clear some of the cobwebs there. "I sorry. I'm just a little out of it right now."  
  
"That's all right," Amanda said, soothingly, "you've done a wonderful job helping out. John's just going to take you to get checked out and then you can rest."  
  
The lone Lone Gunman gently walked across the parking lot toward the street leading Jessica to where a newly arriving ambulance was driving up. Bozinsky, not wanting to interfere with what his friend was doing wandered over to where MacGyver was examining one of the drones that had fallen from the roof. Amanda took a second to look up toward the roof of the center to watch some of the flashes of weapon fire. "Lee, be careful up there." She said a quick, silent prayer for her husband before going back to talk to Harry.  
  
*****  
  
Waking up to someone yelling in the background, Dana Tasker was somewhat surprised to discover that she had been reclining on a church pew. Quickly, she reran the memory of the last of couple of hours through her head before moving. She wanted to have an idea of what was going on before she let anyone know she was awake. She remembered arriving with Mulder and Scully but nothing after that.  
  
The loudest voice, which was still making itself known, stood out as one she had heard before. Checking to be sure that no one was able to see her, the young espionage agent in the making carefully peeked over the edge of the pew to confirm what her ears had heard. Inwardly she groaned at what her eyes beheld. Oliver Sampson, a man her father disliked but has had to put up with, stood in the foyer expressing frustration over an agreement that he had made with someone she couldn't see.  
  
The one she couldn't see suggested that they go outside to talk. Then as they both went to the front door, Dana's eyes widened as her memory cleared at the sight of Garak opening the door for Oliver. The reptilian appearance of the Cardassian also clued her to the fact that a lot more was going on here than her father could have guessed when he sent her on this mission to bring back Frank Parker. She did notice the alien looking back across the room with some hesitation before closing the door behind him.  
  
Her curiosity stirred, and she rose from her pew to look around. First thing she noticed was the red-headed Federal agent, Dana Scully, down at the alter evidently praying. Taking care not to let the agent hear her, she carefully tip-toed out of the room and toward the foyer.  
  
The foyer was long with a three bulletin boards partially full on the wall. A drinking fountain nearby tempted her for a moment but she wanted to check on a few things before satisfying her thirst. The first door she past belonged to the church's secretary, which was closed and had no lights on. The next room, labeled a nursery on the door, she could make out Fox Mulder's voice.  
  
Spying carefully around the corner, she could see the agent sitting in a gray metal chair. On the long table before him lay a man with long scraggily blond hair who seemed to have been very sick. Sweat cover his skin as if he had a fever yet he was very pale. Another man in the room, shorter and older, quietly talked to Mulder while wiping the reclining man's forehead.  
  
The man wiping the forehead, gasped. "Mulder, his eyes!" The man lying down began fluttering his eyes and let out a soft groan.  
  
"Give Langly some room, Frohike," Mulder said softly. "I'll get Dana to take a look at him. The doctors are a bit busy right now."  
  
Dana knew instantly that the Dana that Mulder was referring to wasn't her, and since she wanted to snoop a little more, the young secret agent hurried down the hall and around the corner before Mulder came out to look for his partner.  
  
She waited quietly until she was sure the Federal Agent had entered the sanctuary. The light and activity from down the hall caught her attention.  
  
She wasn't sure what the room was usually used for, probably a Sunday school classroom, but today, from what Dana could see, it was being used for a much different purpose. A man in an unusual spandex uniform seemed to be treating a body reclining on a table in the middle of the small room with some unusual instruments that she didn't recognize.  
  
"I'm ready to implant the gland. Claire, if you would, please," the man said to someone beyond Dana's sight.  
  
A woman, 'Claire' was Dana's guess, came around holding something in a plastic gloved hand. She carried with great care a small white lump in the palm of her hand. From the look on her face, she seemed both reluctant and possibly upset about whatever was about to happen. "Are you sure you can make the gland compatible to Bobby's system, Dr. Bashir?"  
  
The man Dana now knew as Dr. Bashir smiled gently as he reached out to take the object from Claire's hand. "Dr. Keeply, I work as a surgical physician on a space station where I have to be ready to treat dozens of alien species at any given time. Trust me, baring any unforeseen circumstances, I can do this."  
  
"I'm trying to accept that . it's just that ." Claire looked down at the man on the table. Then at the gland the Stafleet medical officer was holding. "That gland has been a large part of my life. It's also one of the last things I have to remember Darien by." Her hand traced the neck of the face-down male body before her, her hands spreading an incision that had already been made in the man's neck. "Now to be just turning over to Bobby Hobbes. I don't know how we could ever stop him if he ever had any of the same troubles with the gland that Darien had," she commented, as a means of unloading just a fraction of the emotional turmoil that she had been storing up.  
  
Out in the hall, Dana recoiled at the sight of the doctor placing the small gland in the opening of Bobby's neck. She took a step back to take a few deep breaths before returning to her eavesdropping.  
  
"-to let Mr. Hobbes have the quicksilver gland?" the doctor inquired while treating the area around the gland with a number of instruments that Dana had no idea what the use of was.  
  
"Nothing like that," Claire answered. "Darien and Bobby were often times like adolescent best friends that-" She gasped.  
  
To Dana's horror, a mercury-like substance seeped from the open wound on Hobbes' neck and quickly proceeded to coat the entire unconscious man's body, then both the man and mercury substance became invisible.  
  
"What did you do?" Claire accused angrily.  
  
Julian was dumbfounded. "I merely finished connecting the neurons to the gland and then stimulated them to insure that-"  
  
"Was this unforeseen?" she said with sarcastic panic. "How are you going to close the wound on an invisible patient?" Claire said, cutting to the crux of the matter.  
  
"Closing the wound isn't the problem," Dr. Bashir replied calmly. "The problem is that I have to first finish implanting the gland before closing up."  
  
Claire was almost beside herself with worry. "How long can he last like this?"  
  
"Long enough." Julian looked across the room to someone Dana couldn't see from her position at the door. "Wade, do you suppose you could help us with this problem?"  
  
Dana's training kept her from gasping out loud as the woman that evidently was Wade came into view. Her complexion was pale to say the least, and her stare seemed to indicate that she was in a trance. Yet even more startling was the tubes coming out of one of her cheeks and then reentering her shoulder. Upon a more thorough look, the young agent could see many other items had been grafted onto the young woman, including a red-laser tracking device over one of her eyes. Dana quivered in revulsion, but was somewhat eased to see that Claire was also ill at eased and had taken a step back from the modern Frankenstein creature.  
  
The 'Wade' person lifted up her left arm with seemed to have been either covered over by mechanical device or replaced with a prosthetic device. Whatever the device was, Wade held it steady for a moment over where the body of the man had been before it had disappeared. A slight crackle of static electricity arced between the tip of a prone on her automated arm and the spot of the invisible gland. The invisibility quicksilver splattered off the prone man's body and dissipated onto the floor.  
  
"Ah, well, we know that the gland still works," the Starfleet doctor said. "Wade," Dr. Bashir walked around the cybernetic female in order to stand next to her. "Thank you, Wade, that was very helpful."  
  
The former drone studied the gland before her. "I recommend a protein and vitamin supplement be added to the tissue near the gland before closing."  
  
"Of course," the doctor agreed. "I just wanted to be able to see before trying to administer them." He then took an instrument off a nearby tray and brought it over by the much focused about gland.  
  
Dana Tasker leaned back and took a moment to reflect on all that she had learned since she had woken up; she had seen a reptile man talking with Oliver Sampson; a man unlike any doctor she had ever seen claimed to have a practice on a space station where he treats aliments of various alien species; a walking, talking female erector set who evidently has a Swiss army arm with a thousand and one uses; plus, a patient that just disappears. She couldn't wait to tell her father.  
  
It was as she was backing away from the door that she came into contact with another body. "Shoot," she muttered to herself.  
  
"Hello," said a surprisingly, sweet and quiet voice. "It's nice to see that you are up and around but I don't think you should be bothering the doctors just now."  
  
The voice belonged to a tall, blond woman with gorgeous hair that made Dana instantly jealous. But the smile seemed genuine so she let the young woman who introduced herself as Sydney lead her back down the hall to the room where the man she had heard called Langly was recovering. Sydney began telling her of some of what had been happening to which Dana was more than willing to add to the information she had managed to gather.  
  
"Wait," she interrupted. "Who is that over there?" she asked, referring to a man laying down on the floor.  
  
"I thought you knew him," Sydney said, sounding a little perplexed. "That's Frank Parker - the man you came to see."  
  
"To retrieve," she corrected. She remained at her place in the hall as Sydney told her of Frank's injuries. Frohike took a moment to ask the two ladies to take their conversation further down the hall as Langly was needing to rest. Thus, they were very near the front door when Oliver came storming in.  
  
"They've gone and left us! They just took off with out so much as a word!" he shouted to anyone who cared to here.  
  
"Airwolf left?" Sydney asked rhetorically. "But why?"  
  
"Someone must have told them of the fighting at the convention center," he said, as he came to the conclusion "Can't imagine anything giving Airwolf much trouble though," he amended after seeing the worry on Sydney's face.  
  
Sydney bit her lip in retrospect to some of what she had learned from Wade. "I hope you are right."  
  
Oliver attention zeroed in on Dana Tasker. "So the Tasker scion is up and about." He took a step closer but Dana refused to be intimidated. "Why has your father sent you here? What is he planning," he demanded.  
  
Seeing that he was clueless, Dana became grateful to Mulder and Scully for not revealing her mission to retrieve Parker for her father. It may not have been important in the grand scheme of things, but her father would be impressed if she kept it from Sampson while at the same time pissing him off. She smiled at the man and said nothing.  
  
Outside the church in the bushes by one of the windows, Albert Gibson was using one of his many small devices to listen into the happenings inside the church. "Aww man, Harry, what did you send your daughter into?" He listened for a while longer all the while becoming more and more unhappy with what he heard.  
  
He wanted to go in and take charge but then Dana would hate him and there would be no working with her after that. Then on the other hand, if he left her to her own recognizance, Dana's mother, Helen, would skin him alive. He tried to take the matter out of his hands by calling Harry, but the radio wasn't working. "I'd say it was cheap equipment but this thing costs more that my last wife's Volvo."  
  
Deciding to make an executive decision, he began putting away his surveillance gear. "Well, ready or not, Dana, here I come," he said to himself.  
  
"I'd prefer it if you stayed right where you are," spoke an oily voice somewhere behind him.  
  
Taking a chance, Albert leapt to the side and grabbed for his gun in mid- air only to be struck by a sharp tingling sensation on the chest. He was just able to make out a man with reptilian features before passing out.  
  
Garak tisked. "If this is what passes for espionage agents in this day and age, its a wonder their governments can get information on anything." He pondered the situation before mentally berating himself for not letting the man climb out of the bushes before confronting him. "And he looks bulkier than most Humans, too." He sighed regretfully before reconciling himself to the task of dragging the Gibson's stunned body out of the brush.  
  
*****  
  
Briscoe's back slammed against the back of the large air conditioning unit he had ducked behind. "Gotta remember to thank Green for bowing out and letting me take this trip instead of him." The sarcasm wasn't laced with any bitterness toward him partner who was back on the East Coast, but was more of a defense mechanism to help him deal with the situation.  
  
Glancing back to see how some of his comrades were fairing, he saw the black security chief, Tess, push Hooker to the ground just in time to avoid being hit by a stray shot from the battling borg drones. "The lady must have spider-senses," he said as he got his wind back. Tess, despite all the danger around her seemed more focused toward the dangers of others than her own being.  
  
Seeing that the rest of his friends were not able to get to where he had managed to find cover and also knowing that there was nothing else he could do about that, Briscoe decided to take a second to check on the black ops agent he had had dragged to safety after Grissom left them to help one the Simon brothers who had taken some shrapnel.  
  
It was then that he noticed that the unconscious ops agent lay next to one of the fallen drones on the roof. While most seemed to be non-functioning - excluding the few that have suddenly risen and starting fighting each other - this drone seemed to only twitch slightly as it regarded him with its cold, gray eyes. A tube going into the chest had burst and a sputtering grayish-white fluid slowly trickled out onto the small rock and tar covering of the roof.  
  
"Wish you could tell me what ups with sibling rivalry with your brothers out there," the detective said snidely, not expecting an answer.  
  
The drone's head twitched to the side causing Lennie to jerk back and almost leave the cover the air conditioning unit provided him.  
  
"I-," the drone said, only to stop and twitch. The pale face was still for a moment, before twitching to life again. "I can tell you-you-you what you need to know."  
  
The cold eyes of the drone were still staring off into space, but Briscoe felt very exposed as leaned against the metal wall of the air conditioning unit. Still he listened as the drone talked and spun one the biggest sci-fi stories Lennie had ever heard.  
  
"So I'm actually talking to someone named Lex Luthor - not like the wrestler, but like the comic book character; and you are using the body in front of me as some sort of interactive walkie-talkie. You've managed to gain control of some of the drones that had been attacking us and are currently fighting an alien who is controlling the other drones," he said, talking to the barely functioning drone at his feet." He was sitting on his heels now, and leaned over as close as he dared to the drone in front of him. "What else can you tell me?"  
  
The drone was still for a moment, and Briscoe began to wonder if it had ceased functioning all together. It twitched itself to awareness though before Briscoe could decide what he should do. "I can tell you that your fri-riend Rick Simon is attacking one-one of my drones that is trying to help you."  
  
"Yeah?" Briscoe risked a peek around the air-conditioning unit. Sure enough, Rick had one of the drones on its back and he doing his best to beat in its brains with his fists. "Hey, Rick! Rick! That one is on our side!"  
  
Rick paused for a second to look over at the man. "How can you tell? They all look alike."  
  
"I got an inside scoop. Just let him go."  
  
With a great deal of reluctance, Rick backed away on his hands and knees. The drone, however, simply sat up. Rick had spent most of last night playing cards with Frank Poncherello and had really come to enjoy his company. If anyone had told him that he would be trying to bash the man's head in the very next night, Rick would have told them they were crazy. The drone of Poncherello didn't seem to be holding any grudges against Rick, though. There was no show of emotion on the drone's face ever when it lifted it's armed appendage and fired.  
  
Rick ducked and let out of series of strong words. That is, until he realized that the Frank drone had shot another drone that had been behind him. "Uh, thanks," he said.  
  
Briscoe was glad that he had decided to trust this lame drone. He came and knelt down by it again. "If you really want our help, why don't you do something to get us off this roof-turned-battleground before this Dverl character kills us or worse."  
  
"Already work-working on that." The drone half lurched forward which caused Briscoe to jump to the side. He pulled the unconscious ops man toward him, while fumbling for his gun belt. Once he had the gun and had drawn it on the partially functioning drone unit, which had its weapon unit that was attached to its arm aimed at the floor ten feet away from him. The drone fired a strong steady beam at the floor for a moment with a wide beam causing a six foot to appear.  
  
"It's like one of those Looney Toon holes that Bugs would use in the cartoons," the detective said for his own benefit. Sometimes talking was a great coping mechanism, regardless of how silly or stupid it may seem. Besides, Briscoe was always one to speak his mind.  
  
"There," spoke the drone, "is your exit."  
  
Hesitantly, Briscoe took a few steps toward the newly made hole in the roof. To his surprise he saw three more drones below, which were in much better shape than the one he had been talking to because evidently they were using metal studs that they had taken from the wall and was fashioning it into a ladder.  
  
"They were making those the whole time we were talking?"  
  
"Yes," the drone answered. "These drones are connected under my control." The drone gasped and slumped forward.  
  
"Hey? Are you.Hey!" Briscoe grabbed the drone and turned him over. The fluid that had been flowing from the tube in his chest sputtered to a few drops. A few more gasps and the pale drone became still and lifeless.  
  
"You should hurry," said one of the drones down below. "That unit is down. The other units on the roof are losing. You must get your friends and come down that ladder now if they are to be rescued."  
  
Lennie didn't have to be told twice. He moved the dead drone aside and then went to find Lee Stetson and the others. Hopefully, the drones would have the ladder made by the time Briscoe rounded up the others.  
  
***** 


	12. chapter 12

As far as the Doctor was concerned, everything continued to spiral out of control. True, some of the Borg had survived the attack of the so-called techno-mage that had broken apart the Collective mind; but they had also come down the stairs to the main level in a group of almost twenty and asked to parley. To add to the situation, Guinin was insisting that they attack the Borg even though their opponents were not being hostile at the moment and had them outnumbered in bodies as well as superior weaponry.  
  
The Doctor did a quick calculation of their defenses. Clark, their greatest asset, was still recovering from his recent ordeal and was still having trouble standing. Some of his newfound allies from Starfleet and Babylon 5 had energy weapons to fight with, others had bladed weapons, but a good number carried only their wits.  
  
"What is it that you want?" the Doctor inquired, under the scornful glare of Guinin.  
  
A short drone stepped forward. In life, the thirty-ish black man newly arrived from New York had been one of the new security guards at the convention center and had the misfortune of becoming one of the first to have been absorbed into the Collective. Now, Arnold Drummond was just a mouthpiece for a splinter of the Borg Collective that had invaded this alternate reality. "Grand Negus Dverl of Borg wishes a stay of hostilities. Your group may leave this facility unharmed, except the one you call Galen and his ward," he pointed to the robed man kneeling over his nanite- infected apprentice, "as well as the Kryptonian and the robot dog."  
  
Clark, the Kryptonian in question, looked up at the borgified man on the steps. In his weakened state he could do no more than glare in defiance. It was Galen that next addressed the Borg unit. He stood up from attending his female charge. The wires that had been connected to her body quickly disengaged and retracted into a amulet he held in his right hand. "And what, pray tell," he asked, moving to a clear area in the center of the lobby, "will you do if we do not choose to accept this generous offer of yours?"  
  
The drone's red laser eye flashed as it traced over Galen's form, which fluttered briefly. The drone then focused his eye over the area that Galen had just vacated. The red laser eyes of the other drones on the stairs followed the gaze of the first drone, tracing the area in a quick motion, dissolving the illusion to reveal Galen still at his apprentice's side, concentrating of the wires that penetrated her body. "You are not in a position to refuse," the drone responded coldly.  
  
Galen, now that his true position had been revealed, made a gesture toward the drones on the staircase, only to be stunned by a jolt from one of them. His fallen form fell protectively over that of his apprentice, Dureena.  
  
The group froze. They had no chance in an attack on the large number of drones before them, yet the Borg's offer to leave and sacrifice their friends just seemed too horrible to accept. The Doctor heard Admiral Paris mutter something about a 'Kobayashi Maru', but the time-lord didn't have time to ask to what he was referring. "I would like to represent my group and talk with Grand Nagus Dverl personally," the said with his hat in his hands.  
  
"You are talking to the Grand Nagus Dverl," answered the short, drone that stood in front of the other drones. "We are all connected. As you speak to any one, you speak to all."  
  
"But not physically," pointed out the Doctor. The others in his group looked at him nervously. Would he pull off a miracle or just get them all killed? "I prefer to communicate direct."  
  
At that moment, a new group of drones appeared at the top of the stairs and began firing down at the drones belonging to Grand Nagus Dverl. "Clark! Get them to cover! I'll hold them off for a few moments!"  
  
Clark, although dazed, looked around for the source of the voice he recognized as belonging to his friend, Lex Luthor. "Lex?" he looked up, confused. In the midst of the commotion, Thomas Magnum pushed past Lana and grabbed Clark's arm. On Clark's other side, Chloe was doing the same, pulling the barely cognizant young man toward the far hall and the hope of safety.  
  
As the drones on the stairs turned their focus on those assaulting from behind, the Starfleet group began a frontal attack of phaser fire. Everyone was diving for whatever cover they could reach. Tom Paris managed to get himself and his father behind a nearby registration counter. Although the counters' materials would offer no real protection from a full strength phaser blast, it did provide some shielding.  
  
"Dad!" His father had been busy trying to adjust the energy frequency to his phaser rifle when Tom had spotted a drone aiming at him. With no regard for his own safety, Tom tackled his father out of the way.  
  
Admiral Owen Paris sputtered as he got his wind back. "What do you think you are."  
  
Tom was already firing on the drones on the stairs. "Just say you owe me one. Now let's see who can bring down the most drones."  
  
The Admiral grinned in spite of himself. Maybe this is what he and Tom needed all along - some bonding time. His lifted his weapon, letting out a war whoop like none he'd made since his academy days and began firing.  
  
Lennier managed to get Bester to his feet and was hurriedly following the Doctor's example by getting the wounded to safety. As he turned to leave, the Psi Corps man's form bumped into Kenny, who had also trying to distance himself from the Borg battle on the stairs. The diminutive Immortal tumbled to the ground as he tried to maintain his grip on both his machete and the robotic unit, K-9. Kenny scrambled to scoop up K-9 under his left arm then quickly glanced for his weapon. He started to lunge for the weapon when he noticed someone step down from the staircase just beside his blade.  
  
The drone that had once been the security guard Arnold Drummond looked down at the permanently young boy and the technologically advanced device under his arm. "You are the Immortal Kenny," spoke the mouthpiece of Grand Nagus Dverl. "You shall be a powerful asset to the Collective. You will be assimilated."  
  
Kenny recoiled in horror that this creature seemed to know about him. How this was, he hadn't a clue. Feeling cornered, the thousand year old boy contemplated his chances of turning tail and running or even charging forward like Duncan would have done, trying to retrieve his machete and attack the short drone. Fortunately, a third option presented itself.  
  
Appearing as a blur, Ezekiel Stone charged past him and tackled the security guard-turned- Borg drone. Stone landed two quick rabbit punches in the drone's face before quickly picking the short drone and throwing him bodily into the next two drones coming down the stairs thus knocking them into a heap. The resurrected ex-police man then made to leave and ended up having to grab and pull with him a wide-eyed, gaping mouthed Kenny with him.  
  
Ezekiel got ten feet away when he felt a sharp burn in his back. Someone cried out in alarm and then everything went black.  
  
---  
  
The first thing he noticed was that waives of pain were no longer shooting down his back. The next was a light. Somehow, the light didn't hurt his eyes despite its intense brightness.  
  
He heard an angry voice far away. But it was a soothing voice nearby to which he responded. "What. What happened?"  
  
The man before him wore a brown leather jacket and blue jeans. His smile was warm and friendly. It took Ezekiel a moment to place him. "You're.Jonathan, right? You said you were an angel."  
  
Jonathan nodded and gave Ezekiel a moment to take in his environment.  
  
In the distance, where it seemed to not be as bright, Ezekiel could see the Devil raving madly and shouting threats toward him and the angel, but seemed unable or unwilling to approach the light shining around them. Ezekiel turned to his protecting angel and asked, "Am I dead?"  
  
"Yes," nodded Jonathan. "But not for long."  
  
Ezekiel was confused. "I don't understand. Why am I here if I can't stay here?"  
  
"To give you a glimpse of what could be yours forever," the angel gestured at the radiance around them. "Words cannot describe the true glory of Heaven, but here you can catch a glimpse."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Because you still need to complete your mission."  
  
Ezekiel was confused. "Wait! First, you say I'm dead again. Then you tell me I have to complete my mission for the Devil before I can get into Heaven? That can't be right," he exclaimed, thoroughly perplexed.  
  
"You made a deal with the Devil to get out of Hell in exchange for sending the damned souls of the Escaped back to the Fiery Pit." A look of sympathy filled Jonathan's eyes. "God does not want these evil souls loose on the world any more than you do. They had a very good reason for being in Hell in the first place."  
  
"But what about me?" demanded Ezekiel. "I wasn't a evil person! I didn't rape and torture people! Why did someone like me have to be in Hell?"  
  
"You choose your own way; not God's way. You hunted down your wife's rapist and forced a lethal overdose on him. You murdered him."  
  
"It was justice! The court systems wouldn't do anything! It had to be done! It was justice."  
  
"Man's justice, not God's." Jonathan sighed. "Still, you have another chance in going back. As you go about your mission to returned the damned soul to Hell, you should reflect more on the ways of God, instead of the ways of man. Learn the meaning of repentance by God's definition, not man's."  
  
Ezekiel wanted to be sullen, but the light of God touched his heart and uplifted him even though he still did not understand. "So now what?"  
  
"For now you help out where you can until the Borg situation is under control. After that, I'll meet up with you in San Francisco."  
  
"San Francisco?"  
  
"It's where you'll find one of your lost souls."  
  
"And you'll be there?"  
  
The angel nodded. "I told you that I would help you out."  
  
Stone took that in for a moment. "So. Now what?"  
  
"Now you go back and get on your feet. I think your friends have dragged you far enough."  
  
"But." The light faded before Zeke could find time to ask any more questions.  
  
---  
  
Ezekiel came around to his being dragged by his legs very fast across a tiled floor. "Hey! Hey! What do you think you are doing?"  
  
Broots let go of the man's legs and let out a startled yelp. "See," Kenny said, standing near Stone's reclining body, "I told you he wasn't dead."  
  
"Could have fooled me," Broots gasped, leaning against a wall. Kenny had grabbed Broots and insisted he help drag Stone to safety. Looking Stone over, he said it was pointless in hauling him out since he was dead. Kenny had insisted, however. And with the boy pointing a machete at him, Broots had dragged the ex-cop out by his feet.  
  
"You all right," Kenny asked.  
  
"Yeah," Stone said, sitting up. He tried reaching around to where he had been shot, but it was just beyond his reach. "I've died before, but this time it was definitely more enlightening."  
  
Broots looked down the hall where he could see little of the fighting and some flashes of lights. "I really think we should keep going. This is not the safest place to have a conversation." He paused in thought. "Did you say that you had died?"  
  
Before anyone could do anything, Remington Steele hurried down the hall towards them with a body over his shoulder. He stepped past Broots and tossed the man over his shoulder down onto a nearby bench.  
  
"Hey, you could hurt him throwing him around like that!" Broots went to look down at the limp man with a burn mark on his chest. "Is he dead?" he asked, out of not wanting to believe what his senses were telling him.  
  
Remington gasped for breath. "Yes. Very dead. Hope he stays that way," he said sarcastically.  
  
The dead man in question gasped deeply as he inhaled, twitching into a upright position. Broots fell backwards and landed on his but where he stared at the man that had just revived.  
  
Connor looked around warily, his eyes settling on Remington and then Kenny. "What happened?"  
  
"It's really quite elementary, really. You got shot. I dragged you out of there. I would think that was obvious," snapped Remington. The night's adventure and late hour was starting to ware on him at this point.  
  
"And before I revived you let him get near me? You know his reputation." Connor said accusingly, pointing at Kenny. "Where's my sword?"  
  
"Hey, I was here first!" pointed out Kenny. "You're the ones intruding on my space." It felt good to stand up for himself, but he didn't like the fact that Connor had heard about him. Connor could be a very dangerous man if he chose to be. He was the one that had trained Duncan after all.  
  
"I said, 'Where's my sword?'," Connor MacLeod said, in an even sterner tone.  
  
"Hey, I think we have enough going on here that we shouldn't be fighting with each other," Ezekiel said. "I think that at least for tonight we should all be on each others side."  
  
Connor glowered, but was willing to admit the man was probably right. The Quickening may be starting its call for all Immortals to come together for the final battle, but there had once been a church on the land on which the convention center stands and was considered holy ground. Thus, no Immortal would dare behead another Immortal on it. This being the case, Kenny would not have taken his head - at least not here. That much Connor was sure of.  
  
"Yeah," agreed Broots. "But what I want to know is how you two were able to . Aaaaiiiii!" Broots dived behind Connor.  
  
Conner, weaponless, still took a defensive stance. Coming down the corridor, the opposite end where the staircase battle was being fought five drones heading their way. They all started backing away until the drones just stopped for no reason. The lead drone continued forward.  
  
Remington prepared to rush the drone when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Connor.  
  
The Scottish Immortal was looking at the drone still coming at them but with no weapons raised. "It's Dawson."  
  
Remington glanced at the drone again, this time trying to see past the Borg features. It was indeed Joe Dawson walking around on two good Borg legs. "Good Lord! I thought he was waiting outside for us!"  
  
"I guess curiosity got the better of him. And the Borg did, too."  
  
Joe, the drone in question, stopped ten feet from them. "I bring you greetings from Lex Luthor. The Borg mind has been shattered. Lex Luthor controls the remnant that is called Brainiac." The drone paused to let that sink in for a second before continuing. "We are here to help you; not to assimilate you."  
  
*****  
  
Methos slowly shut the door behind him, and looked down the dimly lit corridor of the sub-basement. A glimpse of a figure in white turned down the far corner leaving the old Immortal the choice of whether or not to follow. "Andrew." Calling out was reflex, but he didn't actually expect Andrew to stop for him. The angel of death would led him into to the place Methos needed to be at. The situation would be dire, as it was the other times the angel had lead him, and the outcome would be uncertain till the last.  
  
"Why can't I know normal people?" Methos complained as he hurried down the hall.  
  
A tingling sensation throughout his entire being, stopped him in his tracks. The five millennia old man flexed his grip on the sword handle. Not knowing the area he waited for the Immortal he sensed to come to him.  
  
A figure turned into the corridor at the end of the hall and slowly started coming towards him. The outline of the figure was easily identifiable as that of a drone, the red laser shining out from where the right eye should be helped to confirm that assessment. But it wasn't until the drone stepped near one of the service lights that Methos stepped back in horror.  
  
Underneath all the metal parts, tubes, and pasty complexion was the face of Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. Perpetual Boy Scout and do-gooder, he was also the only friend Methos had allowed himself to have in centuries.  
  
"Duncan?" he asked. "Can you talk? It's me, Adam. It's Methos."  
  
The drone stopped in front of him. Methos took it as a good sign, and continued to talk to the Duncan drone.  
  
"I ran into a friend of yours by the name of Remington Steele. Once we heard you were here we came running. Connor's here looking for you, too." Still the drone of his friend was silent, yet seemed to be listening. As if taking in everything. "Can't you talk at all? Just say something. I'll even pay my tab at Joe's place if you'd just say something!"  
  
Duncan's face twitched briefly, before saying, "This drone is the property of Grand Nagus Dverl. As you will soon be, too."  
  
Methos dived to the side and smashed through a side door as the Duncan drone swung it's weapon appendage toward him. He could smell burnt ozone and the hairs on the back of his neck charred but he didn't slow down. He almost tripped over a row of stacked chairs, but easily leaped over them, betraying his more athletic side which he rarely let others see.  
  
"Your Immortal body will help insure the Galactic Conglomerate I shall build in this universe," the drone continued, speaking for the absent Grand Nagus of the Borg. "All wealth and technology shall belong to the Borg, and I, of course, am the Borg."  
  
A stream of plasma fire was sent out striking a far door that Methos had been heading toward. Methos considered using some rugs nearby to beat out the flames but that would just leave him exposed. Trapped with nowhere to go, he turned to face the only Immortal he had ever really trusted. He readied his sword but doubted that he's get an opportunity to use it.  
  
"You will be assimilated," Dverl said with Duncan's voice. "Resistance is fut -"  
  
Without warning, two figures tackled the drone from behind and bore him to the hard concrete floor.  
  
"It's like running into a Buick!" complained Mark Gordon. The rugged ex-cop struggled over the much stronger form of the drone. He hit the drone on the back with his fist only to draw it back bleeding and in pain. "Metals all over him," he complained.  
  
Methos didn't bother to ask why he had been followed but charged in to try hold down Duncan. He had the drone's good arm pinned when he noticed that two needle sharp tubules extended from his knuckles. Without a word, Methos redoubled his efforts to keep that arm under control, because if that arm came loose for even a second, the ancient Immortal knew that Duncan would skewer all three of them in rapid succession.  
  
"Move your leg, lad," Scotty said, as he was trying to reach underneath the pinned drone. Methos, not having been a 'lad' in a long time, realized the man he had been introduced to as Commander Montgomery Scott most have a very good reason for getting into such a vulnerable position.  
  
"Almost got it!" shouted the Starfleet legend.  
  
"Hurry!" Mark shouted. "This is worse than holding down a heroin addict!"  
  
Methos looked down at his sword lying near where they wrestled with Duncan. Why hadn't he used it? It was the perfect opportunity. Because it was still Duncan, he chided himself.  
  
"There!" cried Scotty. MacLeod's body spasmed once and became still. Before Methos could ask what the man had done, Scotty cried out in pain. "Get him off me!"  
  
Gordon and Methos hurriedly pushed Duncan's body aside as to get it off Scotty's trapped arm. "Almost fractured something there," he complained.  
  
"What did you do to him?"  
  
"Well, since he was part machine, I just turned him off." He gently felt his arm in different places feeling for possible breaks. "An engineering friend of mine by the name of Geordi mentioned the basics of how to do it."  
  
"You killed him!" Mark accused.  
  
"I doubt it," Methos answered.  
  
"No, see. He's dead." The former police man checked the drone's vitals. Finding none, he looked back at Scotty with grim eyes. "We could have taken him without killing him."  
  
Scotty was flabbergasted. "My intentions were merely to disconnect the drone from the rest of the Collective. I wasn't about to kill it since it was evidently a friend of Adam's."  
  
"Look," Adam/Methos said, "What's done is done and." He felt an all too familiar tingling of the quickening.  
  
The drone of Duncan MacLeod gasped deeply, causing Mark to jump away and bump into a row of stacked chairs which fell over like dominoes.  
  
"Oh great," muttered Methos. He always hated it when someone revived in front of normal people. It brought up to many questions.  
  
"Hey!" exclaimed Mark. "He must be an Immortal like Kenny."  
  
"What?" Methos exclaimed. "How do you know about that?"  
  
"Would you believe an angel told me?" he answered.  
  
Scotty looked confused but Methos merely sighed. "His name wasn't Andrew by any chance?"  
  
*****  
  
Lee Stetson hurried down the halls keeping Helen Tasker at his side, the rest of his group trailed behind him, some helping those wounded during the fight against the Borg or the helicopter crash on the roof, others helped Tess lead Murtaugh and two of the black ops who had been infected with the nanites.  
  
Grissom hurried up to Lee, and caught his breath as he kept pace. "Where do you think he's leading us?" Gil asked, regarding the drone they were following.  
  
"Away from that horrible encounter on the roof. For now, that is good enough for me." Helen had just been given a quick update and was not at all thrilled with the close encounter she had had with, as she put it, 'cyber- geek E.T.s that want to turn me into some kind of futuristic Frankenstein version of myself'.  
  
"He said," Lee said, pointing to the drone leading them, "that he was going to try to lead us to another group of people trying to survive in here, and then, hopefully, out of here."  
  
Grissom thought about that for a second. In their run from the Borg, most everyone seemed to come together to form a united front. Still, it was possible that some people could have been cut off and had to form their own resistance group. "What floor is this other group on?"  
  
"Main floor. By the main entryway," spoke up the drone leading them.  
  
Grissom felt his guard come up. He found it hard to suddenly accept drones as allies after spending most of the night trying to fight for his life. Even so, something sparked recognition. "Do I know him?" Grissom said quietly, as he leaned closer to Stetson.  
  
"This unit is in the form of Detective James Ellison," spoke the drone, stopping and turning to address the trio. "And he has exceptionally sharp hearing, I might add."  
  
Gil didn't know what to say so instead he stared at the composite of man and machine before him. After only a moment, he could recognize the features of Det. Ellison, one of the first to stand up to - and also to fall to - the Borg in their opening attack.  
  
Seeing that a change of subject might be good, Helen asked Grissom a question. "Is everything going all right back there? I thought you volunteered to bring up the rear with Hawk and Sydney."  
  
Grissom tore his eyes away from the drone, which enabled him to speak again. "Uh, yeah. I noticed something that our technological friend might be able to explain. As we were passing by some of the barely functioning drones, our Borg guards would take the time to inject the disabled drones with whatever it is that they use to turn us into them. Then after a minute or two, the disabled drone would get to its feet and head back the way we came."  
  
Lee regarded the drone. He could not deny that the Borg had the best poker face he had ever seen. "Care to explain?"  
  
"As we walk." The drone turned his back to them and continued on down the hall. Stetson, Tasker and Grissom had no choice but to follow.  
  
"Well ? Explain already," Helen insisted as she hurried up next to the drone.  
  
"I had been using the 'injections'" the drone simplified, "to allow myself to make temporary use of the disabled drones."  
  
"Why only temporary use?" the female secret agent asked.  
  
The drone smiled. "You remind me of this reporter that worked on the local high school paper where I come from. Very inquisitive."  
  
"Why only temporary use?" Her voice hardened; she meant business. Her husband, Harry, had spent a weekend taking her to some of the seedier metropolitan area for her to practice that tone on various annoying clerks and rude people. It had turned out to be very effective. They had turned the weekend into a second honeymoon. They had found a great café which they would visit whenever they were in the area for the best Italian food this side of Italy. Now, however, she might as well have been trying to use her verbal tone on a corpse. Sighing, she changed tactics. "If we are to be allies, then you should be able to tell us about what you are doing, right?"  
  
"I can think of a hundred argument against that line of reasoning, Mrs. Tasker," began the drone. "But I will explain it to you."  
  
"We're listening," Lee said from just behind them.  
  
"I was injecting damaged drones to make them partially functional in order to help my forces appear stronger than they really are. These newly 'recruited' drones, however, cannot be saved. As it is, I can barely keep them walking in a straight line. I can have them positioned strategically to fire at anything that moves toward them, though."  
  
"You said, 'was'. You used the past tense," Gil pointed out. "Did you just stop injecting the damaged drones we're passing by?" To add to his point, he had to step over a barely twitching drone lying in the way.  
  
"They aren't really necessary for my plans anymore at this point. The last few were just to cover our path so that Dverl's troops can't attack our rear while I get you all out of here."  
  
Lee glanced between Gil and Helen. Both seemed bothered by Lex/Ellison's treatment of the Humans turned drones. "How long will they last?"  
  
"For most of them, not long at all. As a matter of fact," he stopped and turned to address them. "Everyone should brace themselves," Lex said, the words echoed through all the nearby drones under his control.  
  
Lee wasn't sure what threat there was. Nothing seemed to be threatening them from either side of the hall. "What."  
  
An explosion rocked the building, nearly knocking them off their feet. As they steadied themselves, they could see a little bit of smoke and dust coming from the corridor they had just come down. A.J. and Rick Simon were both trying to get to their feet. Tess was trying to get someone to help her get Roger Murtaugh off the floor. T.J. Hooker and a black ops man were helping another previously wounded ops man back up. Everyone else down the hall was doing similarly engaged. Surprisingly, no one panicked and everybody went to help someone. They all knew they were in this together.  
  
Lee took charge. "Grissom, go check on the others! Hey, Brainiac. Or Lex. Or whatever you call yourself, what just happened?"  
  
"Dverl just lost a number of his drones. He still has more than me, but he isn't going to be happy with what I just did so."  
  
"What did you do?" demanded Helen. "Blow up half the building?"  
  
"Only about an eighth of it, actually," the drone replied casually.  
  
Lee and Helen were outraged, but Helen recovered first. "And how many people did you kill with that explosion? How do you know that there weren't more people trapped down there hiding from the Borg."  
  
The intimidating drone regarded her for a second. "Mrs. Tasker, the sensors that are on this drones body, as well as the sensors on every drone's body, are able to detect where every Human is in this building at all times, and they have done that since they arrived here. There were no un-indoctrinated Humans where the explosion occurred. I give you my word."  
  
"But," interjected Lee, "how were you able to entrap this other Borg leader if you can detect where each other are?"  
  
The drone smiled, creeping Lee out. "Dverl and I have both taken up the strategy of masking our drones from the others personalized radar. In other words, we have to actually go out and visually search for each other if we are going to fight."  
  
"So you made him think you were somewhere that you weren't and then set up a bomb for him," Lee concluded.  
  
A light came to Helen. "The damaged drones you could only use for a while. You put them in a large group because this Dverl guy would think you were gathering your forces around yourself. Dverl's boys moved in, experiencing less resistance than expected. So he would have assumed you were even weaker than he had originally believed and moved in for the kill only to have his forces blown up."  
  
"That is a very good assessment of the facts, Mrs. Tasker. I see why you were so adept at the role of secret agent."  
  
Rick Simon and his brother, A.J., walked past followed by one of Helen's ops men from the helicopter. Others, including a few of Lex's drones, began filing past.  
  
"We really should talk about this later," stated the drone.  
  
Helen and Lee started walking again, trying to hurriedly reach the beginning of the line. "No, we'll talk about this as we go," insisted Lee. "I've a feeling there is a lot more that you haven't told us yet."  
  
Helen could have sworn that she heard the drone sigh as it followed. But that couldn't have been right, could it?  
  
*****  
  
Notes: Well, I was asked to try post by Thanksgiving Day and here I am with what I've got. I wanted to try write more but I just couldn't pull it off. Believe it or not, I am getting close to the end of Part 5. It's just taking a little longer than I thought.  
  
And here is where we see the answer to How Much Is Too Much? I've used or mentioned over 127 characters from over 67 TV shows or movies in the making of this story. People keep asking me how I keep things working so smoothly in the story and for the life of me I have no idea. I just keep trying to put the story together and adding anything interesting that could fit in as I go. My next story will definitely be with less characters. I have to keep my sanity after all.  
  
I hope you all got a kick out of the Arnold Drummond as a security guard jest. For those of you who don't know who played Arnold Drummond, please scroll down to the end of the list I made and you may just understand. It is a list of all the characters that I have used or mentioned in this very filled universe. I've also included if that character had died in the story or been turned into a drone in case you may have missed an posting.  
  
I've also reworked some of what I wrote on Briscoe in my previous posting. Check it out if you are curious, I think it is more interesting.  
  
Looking forward to the reviews, Charlie Nelson Ordinaryguy2@juno.com  
  
STAR TREK TEAM Guinin - (Whoopi Goldberg) Montgomery "Scotty" Scott - (James Doohan) Dr. Julian Bashir - (Siddig El Fadil) Garak - (Andrew Robinson) Tom Paris - (Robert Duncan McNeill) Adm. Owen Paris - (Richard Herd)  
  
DOCTOR WHO (1963 - 1989) The Doctor - (Tom Baker) Leela - (Louise Jameson) K-9 - (Voice of K-9 done by John Leeson)  
  
---  
  
Characters Appearances, Cameos & Honorable Mentions In order of appearance  
  
SIMON & SIMON (1981 - 1988) A.J. Simon - (Jameson Parker) Rick Simon - (Gerald Raney)  
  
MAGNUM PI (1980 - 1988) Thomas Magnum - (Tom Selleck)  
  
THE FALL GUY (1981 - 1986) Jody Banks - (Heather Thomas) **died** Colt Seavers - (Lee Majors) **became drone**  
  
T.J. HOOKER (1982 - 1986) Thomas J. Hooker - (William Shatner)  
  
HARDCASTLE & MCCORMICK (1983 - 1986) Judge Milton C. 'Hardcase' Hardcastle - (Brian Keith) **became drone**  
  
CHIPS (1977 - 1986) Officer Francis Llewellyn 'Ponch' Poncherello - (Erik Estrada) **became drone**  
  
NYPD BLUE (1993 - ?) Detective Andy Sipowicz - (Dennis Franz) **became drone**  
  
SILK STALKINGS (1991 - 1999) Sgt. Chris Lorenzo - (Rob Estes) **became drone**  
  
X-FILES (1993 - 2002) Fox Mulder - (David Duchovny) Dana Scully - (Gillian Anderson)  
  
QUINCY (1976 - 1983) Dr. Quincy - (Jack Klugman) **became drone**  
  
DIAGNOSIS MURDER (1993 - 2001) Dr. Mark Sloan - (Dick Van Dyke) **became drone**  
  
MILLENNIUM (1996 - 1997) Frank Black - (Lance Henriksen) **became drone**  
  
C.S.I.: CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATION (2001 - 2002) Gil Grissom - (William Petersen)  
  
THE LONE GUNMEN (2001) John Fitzgerald Byers - (Bruce Harwood)  
  
Melvin Frohike - (Tom Braidwood)  
  
Richard "Ringo" Langly - (Dean Haglund) **almost became a drone**  
  
REMINGTON STEELE (1982 - 1987) Remington Steele - (Pierce Brosnan) Laura Holt - (Stephanie Zimbalist)  
  
COLUMBO (1971 - present) Lt. Columbo - (Peter Falk)  
  
KATE LOVES A MYSTERY (1979) Mrs. Kate Columbo - (Kate Mulgrew)  
  
SCARECROW AND MRS. KING (1983 - 1987) Mrs. Amanda King - (Kate Jackson)  
  
Lee "Scarecrow" Stetson - (Bruce Boxleitner)  
  
MURDER, SHE WROTE (1984 - 1996) Jessica Beatrice 'J.B' McGill Fletcher - (Angela Lansbury)  
  
INVISIBLE MAN (2000 - 2002) Darien Fawkes - (Vincent Ventresca) **died**  
  
Agent Bobby Hobbes - (Paul Ben-Victor) Charles "The Official" Borden - (Eddie Jones) **mentioned only**  
  
Claire "The Keeper" Keeply - (Shannon Kenny)  
  
JAMES BOND (1962 - present) James Bond - (pick whichever James Bond actor you liked best. Personally, I choose Sean Connery) **mentioned only**  
  
LE FEMME NIKITA (1997 - 2001) Section One **mentioned only**  
  
THE ANDY GRIFFITH SHOW (1960 - 1968) Deputy Barney Fife - (Don Knotts)  
  
PRETENDER (1996 - 2000) Jarod - (Michael T. Weiss) Miss Parker/Catherine Parker - (Andrea Parker) Sydney/Jacob - (Patrick Bauchau) Broots - (Jon Gries)  
  
SENTINEL (1996 - 1999) Detective James Ellison - (Richard Burgi) **became drone** Blair Sandburg - (Garett Maggart) **became drone**  
  
SEVEN DAYS (1998 - 2001) Lt. Frank Parker - (Jonathan LaPaglia)  
  
Dr. Bradley Talmadge - (Alan Scarfe) **mentioned only**  
  
WALKER, TEXAS RANGER (1993 - 2001) Cordell Walker - (Chuck Norris) **became drone** **died**  
  
BABYLON 5 / CRUSADE (1994 - 1998/1999) Dr. Sarah Chambers - (Marjean Holden) Captain Matthew Gideon - (Gary Cole) Alfred Bester - (Walter Koenig) Galen - (Peter Woodward) Dureena Nafeel - (Carrie Dobro) Captain Elizabeth Lochley - (Tracy Scoggins) Lennier - (Bill Mumy) Vir Cotto - (Stephen Furst) Zack Allen - (Jeff Conaway) Max Eilerson - (David Allen Brooks)  
  
SMALLVILLE (2001 - present) Clark Jerome Kent/Kal-El - (Tom Welling) Lana Lang - (Kristin Kreuk) Lex Luthor - (Michael Rosenbaum) Chloe Sullivan - (Allison Mack) Pete Ross - (Sam Jones III) **mentioned only** Whitney Fordman - (Eric Johnson) **mentioned only** Jonathan Kent - (John Schneider) **mentioned only** Martha Kent - (Annette O'Toole) **mentioned only** Lionel Luthor - (John Glover) **mentioned only**  
  
HIGHLANDER (1992 - 1997) Duncan MacLeod - (Adrian Paul) Connor MacLeod - (Christopher Lambert) Methos/Adam Pierson - (Peter Wingfield) Joe Dawson - (Jim Byrnes) **became drone** Kenny - (Andrew Cord) Felicia Martins - (Joan Jett) **died**  
  
KOLCHAK: THE NIGHT STALKER (1984 - 1985) Carl Kolchak - (Darren McGavin)  
  
FOREVER KNIGHT (1992 - 1994) Tracey Vetter - (Lisa Ryder) **mentioned only** **died**  
  
TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL (1994 - 2003) Monica - (Roma Downey) Andrew - (John Dye) Tess - (Della Reese)  
  
BRIMSTONE (1998 - 1999) Zeke Stone - (Peter Horton)  
  
The Devil - (John Glover)  
  
LAW & ORDER (1990 - present) Detective Leonard 'Lennie' Briscoe - (Jerry Orbach)  
  
21 JUMP STREET (1987 - 1992) Doug Penhall - (Peter DeLuise) Joey Penhall - (Michel DeLuise)  
  
HIGHWAY TO HEAVEN (1984 - 1989) Jonathan Smith - (Michel Landon) Mark Gordon - (Victor French)  
  
LEATHAL WEAPON (1987) Detective Martin Riggs - (Mel Gibson) **became drone** Detective Roger Murtaugh - (Danny Glover) **became drone**  
  
BEVERLY HILLS COP (1984) Detective Axel Foley - (Eddie Murphy) **became drone** Detective William 'Billy' Rosewood - (Judge Reinhold) **became drone**  
  
RIPTIDE (1984 - 1986) Murray 'Boz' Bozinsky - (Thom Bray) Roboz **become drone parts**  
  
POLICE WOMAN (1974 - 1978) Suzanne 'Pepper' Anderson - (Angie Dickinson) **became drone**  
  
MOONLIGHTING (1985 - 1989) Cybill Shepherd - (Maddie Hayes) **became drone** Bruce Willis - (David Addison) **became drone**  
  
DIE HARD (1988) Bruce Willis - John McClane **mentioned only**  
  
MACGYVER (1985 - 1992) Angus MacGyver - (Richard Dean Anderson)  
  
SPENSER: FOR HIRE (1985 - 1988) Spencer - (Robert Urich) **became drone**  
  
A MAN CALLED HAWK (1989) Hawk - (Avery Brooks)  
  
HIGHLANDER (1992 - 1997) Hugh Fitzcairn - (Roger Daltrey) **mentioned only** **dead**  
  
LAW & ORDER: SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT (1999 - 2002) Olivia Benson - (Mariska Hargitay) **became drone**  
  
THE ROCKFORD FILES (1974 - 1980) Jim Rockford - (James Garner) **became drone**  
  
THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E. (1964 - 1968) Napoleon Solo - (Robert Vaughn) **mentioned only**  
  
THE AVENGERS (1961 - 1969) John Wickham Gascone Berresford Steed - (Patrick Macnee) **mentioned only**  
  
KNIGHT RIDER (1982 - 1986) Michael Knight {alias of Police Det. Michael Arthur Long} - (David Hasselhoff) **mentioned only**  
  
MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE (1996) Ethan Hunt - (Tom Cruise) **mentioned only**  
  
Various Matt Helm movies in the 60's Matt Helm - (Dean Martin) **mentioned only**  
  
FRAISER (1993 - present) Martin 'Marty' Crane - (John Mahoney) Eddie the dog  
  
VR.5 (1995) Sydney Bloom - (Lori Singer) Oliver Sampson - (Anthony Head)  
  
AIRWOLF (1984 - 1986) Stringfellow Hawke - (Jan-Michael Vincent) Dominic Santini - (Ernest Borgnine) Michael Coldsmith Briggs 'Archangel' - (Alex Cord) **mentioned only**  
  
BARNEY MILLER (1975 - 1982) Stan Wojciehowicz - (Max Gail) **became drone**  
  
TRUE LIES (1994) Harry Tasker - (Arnold Schwarzenegger) Helen Tasker - (Jamie Lee Curtis) Dana Tasker - (Eliza Dushku) Albert Gibson - (Tom Arnold)  
  
X-FILES (1993 - 2002) The Cigarette Smoking Man - (William B. Davis)  
  
THE EQUALIZER (1985 -1989) Robert McCall - (Edward Woodward) **became drone** also played Alwyn, Galen's father in a episode of CRUDADE **mentioned only**  
  
BABYLON 5 (1994 - 1998) Michael Garibaldi - (Jerry Doyle) **mentioned only**  
  
THE ANDY GRIFFITH SHOW (1963 - 1964) GOMER PYLE, U.S.M.C. (1964 - 1970) Gomer Pyle - (Jim Nabors) **mentioned only**  
  
LAW & ORDER (1999 - present) Det. Ed Green - (Jesse L. Martin) **mentioned only**  
  
DIFF'RENT STROKES (1978 - 1986) Arnold Jackson/Drummond - (Gary Coleman) **became drone** 


	13. Chapter 13

OUTSIDE THE CONVENTION CENTER A black jeep came to a quick stop in front of the wrecked side of the convention center. Other vehicles were heading over as well, including two fire trucks that had arrived and an ambulance. Four people hurried out of the jeep and looked over the devastation.  
  
Harry's calculated eye knew that no one could have survived such an explosion. Helen was not in there, he told himself. He would not have been able to function if he had thought otherwise. What he needed to do more than anything right now was to function so that he could find his wife if she needed help.  
  
"To risky to venture in there," Jarod said, running his experienced eye over the wreckage. Small pieces of debris fell from higher up feeding the small fires below.  
  
"I agree," MacGyver said, fiddling with the Jeep keys. "It's still settling. Anyone going in there wouldn't make it through."  
  
Harry said nothing. He knew they were saying that for his benefit. Right amidst the wreckage was the helicopter that Helen had crashed on the roof in. That didn't mean she was in that disaster area. She could have been somewhere else-  
  
"There sure are a lot of bodies in there. What was going on in there?" Miss Parker said.  
  
Jarod grabbed her arm and gave her a discreet squeeze. MacGyver spoke up to break the mood. "One of the men placed on this side of the building said he saw what looked like a laser show going on before the explosion."  
  
"There had been a fight," Jarod said, blankly. "Lasers for weapons."  
  
"They have that kind of technology?" Harry asked in disbelief.  
  
"That's what we've been trying to tell you!" shouted Miss Parker. "But you don't want to believe that the Borg has the capabilities that it has, so obviously it can't! That being the case, everything that they've managed to do so far must be a fabrication! We might as well go home and go to sleep in our nice, warm, safe beds!"  
  
Jarod pulled Catherine Parker to the side and talked with her in hushed tones. "Well," MacGyver tried to choose his words carefully. "What do you think we should do now?"  
  
"I have to get in there."  
  
"You can't. At least not through there," Angus said, indicating the wreckage with the jeep keys.  
  
"What is it?" Catherine asked Jarod. MacGyver and Tasker looked to see what they were talking about.  
  
Flying in low above the various structures that filled the Seattle skyline came a very high-tech, sleek looking black helicopter that was surprisingly quiet. Harry's mind searched his memory. It was not of a design he had ever seen, but it was one that he had heard about.  
  
"I think I know who might be flying that bird." Without taking his eyes of the metal flyer he tapped MacGyver on the shoulder. "Do you have a flashlight?"  
  
"I believe I saw one in the Jeep," he responded, and quickly turned to go get the item requested for.  
  
"I don't recognize that model. What kind of helicopter is that?" Jarod asked with a child-like enthusiasm.  
  
"Top of the line and one of a kind. Called Airwolf," Harry said. MacGyver was back momentarily with the flashlight and handed it over. Harry glanced at it to make sure the beam was bright enough, then began flashing the chopper by turning the flashlight on and off in rapid secession.  
  
Catherine was puzzled before turning to Jarod. "Morse Code?"  
  
He nodded in affirmative. Both he and MacGyver seemed intent on the signal that Harry was sending leaving Miss Parker to wonder about the occupants of the aircraft.  
  
"You want them to what.?" burst out MacGyver. "Are you insane?"  
  
Before she could ask someone to explain that the black helicopter in question turned slightly to their right and fired a missile at the wall of the convention center.  
  
"Are you insane?" shouted Catherine.  
  
"If you are just going to repeat everyone else's questions you are just being redundant," was the only answer Harry gave as he intently watched the rubble fall around the new opening in the side of the building. This new hole was roughly man-sized, at ground level, and was almost fifty feet away from the area where part of the building had collapsed.  
  
Harry handed the flashlight back to MacGyver. "Tell Airwolf thanks. I got it from here."  
  
A stream of laser fire came from an area near the roof. Airwolf banked to the left to try get away from the sudden attack. The helicopter switched its weaponry to bullets and returned fire.  
  
Harry cursed. He grabbed the flashlight back from MacGyver and hurriedly began blinking it at the fast flying helicopter. "We have to get them to stop firing! There are still people in there!"  
  
"Harry," Angus MacGyver said. "They are too busy trying to stay alive to see your flashlight. Besides, their shots are incredible precise."  
  
"He's right," verified Jarod. "None of Airwolf's shots have missed even five feet away from where they are being attacked."  
  
Harry looked around to confirm all this for himself. "Better tracking than I thought," he admitted. "Okay, change of plan. You two find a way to communicate with Airwolf and make sure it doesn't fire any more explosives at the building until I get out of there." He handed the flashlight over to Jarod, who nodded in agreement. "MacGyver, you're with me," he said and then turned to head into the building throw the new opening.  
  
MacGyver just shrugged at Jarad and Catherine before hurrying after Tasker.  
  
*****  
  
ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER MAIN FLOOR - MAIN ENTRYWAY With his head feeling as if it were quivering because of all the pain he was experiencing, Alfred Bester opened his eyes to see what all the loud noise was about. As he did he was startled to see a body land hard on the tile floor just three feet in front of him. A man next to the barely cognizant Psi-Cop jumped alerting Bester to his presence.  
  
His head throbbing reminded him of the Martian Flu that he had suffered through while a teenager. He had been sure then that death would have been preferable to the flu experience and now he was in agreement with his younger self. Sitting up slowly he could see that he was in an alcove under a large staircase where a battle was taking place. After a moment of trying to remember how he got there, he remembered Q and his mission to fight the Borg. It had been Bester's attention to win from Q, for his participation in these events, either superior weaponry or a suitable planet for his people, the telepaths of Earth.  
  
Lennier was the first person that Bester saw. The Minbari was using a wooden coat rack stand as a type of staff weapon against two drones who seemed intent on injecting him with the tubules extended from their left arms. As Bester watched, Lennier blocked the right drone's weapon appendaged arm with the staff, then twisted his body and kicked out high with his leg to keep the left drone from stabbing him. Then he quickly swung the staff around, striking the left drone in the face and then used the hooks at the top of the coat rack to catch one of the right drone's ankles, pulling, causing the drone to fall backwards. The Minbari swung back towards the left drone in hopes of finishing him before the other drone could get upright.  
  
"Your friend is a very impressive fighter," commented the man beside him.  
  
Bester glanced back at the man next to him. "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm the Doctor," he said as if it explained everything. "And now that you are up and about I suggest I lead you out of here. You are really in no condition to fight."  
  
"The Doctor. You lead the other group gathered by Q. You went into the center without us. I remember that but-but what happened to me?"  
  
"Near as I can determine you were exposed to a psychic or telepathic explosion. Your being this near the Borg collective mind would have already been wearing down your natural mental defenses. Who knows what type of damage may have occurred to a telepath like yourse-"  
  
"Stop!" the Psi-Cop said, shaking his head slightly and not with a little pain. He pressed his forehead to try to focus and bring about some clarity. His eyes widened when he couldn't. "I can't hear you!" he cried.  
  
"Most likely a result of the telepathic explosion," concluded the Doctor. He pushed his multi-colored scarf aside as he began searching one of his many coat pockets for something. "It may have rendered you mentally 'deaf' as a result. I've only read about such cases, but-"  
  
"Shut up!" Bester looked around frantically for something that might help him.  
  
The Doctor's search of his pockets yielded no results except a bag of jelly babies which he returned to its proper pocket. "Humph, I was sure I had that in there. Oh well, a battlefield is no place to try run such tests anyway. Listen, I don't believe I caught your name?" Seeing the man wasn't going to answer, the Doctor continued. "Don't worry. When this is all over we find a specialist who can tell us if this is permanent or-"  
  
"I told you to shut up!" Bester shouted as he turned and hit the time-lord hard in the face. "A doctor won't help this!" he said as he looked out at those fighting. Lennier had picked up a katana somewhere and was using the bladed weapon to lethal effect on the drones trying to come down the staircase. Guinin was busy proving were more vicious side by killing any drones trying to shoot the Minbari. Admiral Paris and his son Tom were also busy shooting up at the drones on the staircase while shouting hit numbers to each other.  
  
Bester's eye's stopped on the prone figure lying on the tile. "The techno- mage!" shouted the Psi-Cop. "He did this to me! He can fix it!"  
  
With no regard for his safety, the purpose driven man stumbled over a drone's body and out into the melee before the Doctor had recovered enough to get him under control. Though weaving left and right, Bester's path took him past Guinin who yelled at him to take cover.  
  
Heedlessly, Bester stepped past the El-Aurian and fell in a knelling position next to the senseless forms of Galen and his apprentice, Dureena Nafeel. "Wake up, you fool! You have to fix what you did to me!" He began emphasizing his anger by hitting the techno-mage repeatedly in the face. "I will not be one of those deaf and dumb-minded backwards Earthers! I am one of the next evolutionary step for mankind and you will put me back in my rightful place! I! Will! Not! Be! Denied!"  
  
A hit from behind caused the impaired telepath to release Galen. He reached behind him and grabbed his attacker. Guinin was there in his face glaring at him with her rifle aimed near his temple.  
  
"Bester, I don't have time for this!" she growled. "You either do as I-"  
  
In a rapid motion that belied his battered condition, Alfred pushed the rifle away and grabbed at her throat, throwing his weight at her. The two wrestled on the ground, heedless of the firefight going on around them. Bester head-butted her repeatedly as he continued his choke hold until a phaser rifle fired once and both fighters lay still on the floor.  
  
Tom Paris called out repeatedly to Guinin, he was about to leave his cover when his father held him back. "We need to stop the drones from coming down. Whatever has happened to Guinin and Bester -dead or alive- has already happened."  
  
"But they could be just hurt. I've had some medical training. I might be able to save them."  
  
"And if any more of those drones make it down those stairs we are all done for," shouted the admiral. "Now start shooting and that's an order!"  
  
With some reluctance, took aim and fired again on the Borg. It was while he was manually changing his phasar frequency that he saw Guinin push Bester's corpse off of her and roll back to the place she had been using as cover. Then she reached back out for her phasar rifle.  
  
She looked once back at Bester as she wiped blood from her lip. In the alcove she could see the Doctor shaking his head as he straightened the dents out of his hat. She would have to ask the Doctor what that was all about but for now she was willing to take her frustrations out on the remaining drones.  
  
*****  
  
ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER BASEMENT As Duncan explained what had happened between him and the Borg. Methos' heart went out to him; Mark listened in disbelief to a story that was barely within his comprehension; Admiral Scott merely nodded off and on while examining the Scottish Immortal's Borg body grafts. "Once they sink their hooks into you, they definitely don't want to let you go," muttered the old Starfleet engineer.  
  
Mark who had been trying to listen intently to everything that Duncan had been telling them, suddenly understood where the currently inactive drone was going with his subject. "Now hang on! There has to be another way!" In the last few minutes the grizzly bearded ex-cop had been listening to an intense dialog concerning headhunting Immortals and the mind collective of the Borg. Not concepts he was familiar with, but as a cop he had learned to put newly acquired facts together in order to understand what had happened, regardless of the usual disturbing outcome.  
  
"The Borg has received a major set back," Duncan said. "But regardless of being tore into two factions, the Borg will grow and adapt into something mankind cannot defeat. Unless we deal with it now." Duncan was exhausted. His body was in a constant state of trying to heal itself but with the device attached to him that was continually adding new nanites to replace the old one his body finally destroys, he just couldn't get ahead. As it was now, he had his mind back but nothing was as he had left it. It was taking all his energy to just stand there and talk.  
  
"He's right on their formidability," commented Ambassador Scott, as he continued his examination more of the technological components on Duncan's chest. "And their determination."  
  
Duncan's left hand reached out and grabbed Methos/Adam's sleeve causing the older man to look up from where he had been staring at the floor. "We have to do this," Duncan said in a tired tone. "For the sake of mankind."  
  
Looking past Duncan's head, Methos could see a figure in white leaning against the far wall. Andrew had led him to all of his most desperate battles but the angel of death had never stayed for those outcomes. At least not that Methos had seen. "I think we should make a slight change in your plan," he finally said to Duncan. His eyes never left those of the angel in white. Andrew said nothing, his face was grim but he did nod in agreement.  
  
As Methos explained his ideas to the others, Mark became more and more opposed. "What is wrong with you people? Can't you see that this is wrong? There has to be another way."  
  
"How?" demanded Methos. "Without more people dying or worse? How"  
  
"I won't let you do it."  
  
"Fine." The ancient Immortal moved with startling reflexes, hitting the former cop so fast that he barely saw it coming and had no time to avoid it. He landed hard on the floor, bouncing once before coming to a rest in a heap.  
  
Methos looked over at Scotty. "Do you have a problem with this, too?"  
  
Ambassador Scott shook him head. "A friend of mine once said, 'The needs of the many outweigh the one'," Montgomery said. "And many times, like now, that is the case."  
  
Duncan looked down at the knocked out form of Mark Gordon. "What do we do about him?"  
  
Scotty sighed. "I guess I'll be lugging the big lug out of here."  
  
The trio helped each other get the unconscious Mark Gordon onto a food cart and cleared a path to the door.  
  
"There is an elevator down the hall," Duncan relayed. "Just take every right turn till you see it. You should hurry since Dverl will probably have some drones to coming here to see what has happened to me. Dverl seemed to hold me in high regard."  
  
Scotty nodded. "And you understand what you have to do, too?"  
  
Duncan nodded. "Yes, and it should work."  
  
Scotty tried to shake his hand but suddenly realized that he couldn't shake the borgified Immortal's hand, he patted him on the shoulder instead. He was able to shake Methos hand before turning to push the cart with Mark on it out into the hall.  
  
The two Immortals stood there silently listening to the squeaky wheels of the food cart as it went further and further down the hall. It was a good five minutes before Methos spoke. "I always knew that it would end with either you or me."  
  
Duncan looked at him wearily. "We could still do it my way. It was my idea in the first place."  
  
"But I'm older and have a stronger quickening within me," pointed out Methos.  
  
"I guess it is pointless to ask if I'll survive," commented Duncan.  
  
"I thought you weren't worried about that." Methos glanced over at Andrew who was still staying silently over by the wall. The angel in while nodded. "But I think that you'll make it," he concluded. "Just try to be more careful after this. I won't be able to bail you out anymore after this."  
  
Duncan merely nodded. His pale complexion seemed to grow paler. "How should we do this?"  
  
"After four hundred years living as an Immortal, you forget how to use a sword?" he said with levity. "Here," he said, handing over his sword. "Try not to loose it."  
  
Duncan gripped the sword hard with his left hand. "I'm sorry that it had-"  
  
"Don't," the other Immortal said. "I'd rather it be you. Besides it's not like its the first time I'd offered it to you." He managed to force a grin.  
  
"Okay then."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So.?"  
  
"So.what?"  
  
"I think I hear drones approaching."  
  
Methos sighed. "Then do it already, Highlander."  
  
Duncan hesitated only briefly before swinging the sword and thus decapitating the unresisting Methos. Before he could grieve for his friend, MacLeod dropped the sword and reached down to reconnect the Borg component that would bring him back on line with the Dverl Collective.  
  
"All right, Dverl," Duncan spat. "Let's see you adapt to this."  
  
Even as the body of Methos began emitting the energies of a quickening over five thousand years old, Duncan could feel the Borg Collective of Grand Nagus reclaiming his mind.  
  
A drone stepped into the room only to be struck back by the beginning of the energy being released.  
  
*****  
  
ROSEMONT CONVENTION CENTER HALL ON THE MAIN FLOOR Broots had been helping Chloe and Magnum set Clark up in a chair, when he noticed those arguing in the background suddenly go silent. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Remington, Kenny and even Connor were all still and fearful. Ezekiel just looked confused at their sudden change of behavior.  
  
It was Remington Steele that broke the silence. "Did someone just.?"  
  
Connor tilted his head as if trying to hear something. "I'm afraid so," he said with a terrible tone of melancholy.  
  
"But there used to be a church on this site!" exclaimed Kenny. The younger appearing Immortal had the inert form of K-9 under one arm and fiercely clenching his machete with his free hand. "It's holy ground! I could feel it as soon as I got here! No one is suppose to-"  
  
"Evidently someone did," Connor coldly cut him off.  
  
Remington looked down both ends of the hall. One end led back the fight on the staircase with the Borg and the other end led further into the center. "We have to get out of here."  
  
The drone of Joe Dawson interrupted. "You are talking about a quickening?"  
  
Connor nodded.  
  
"What's a quickening?" asked Broots, who had now come over to see what all the excitement was about.  
  
"Don't ask me," Ezekiel said. "I'm just as confused as you are."  
  
"We must leave," said the drone. "I have detected a massive buildup of energy in the basement level of this facility."  
  
"How do I get down there?" Connor asked the drone, in a manner both urgent and demanding.  
  
Remington put a staying hand on Connor's shoulder. "If it was Connor down there, then he is beyond your help. But a quickening on holy ground. I heard about Pompeii. We really need to get out of here."  
  
"Pompeii?!? What are you talking about?" Broots asked with growing concern.  
  
"The volcano that blew up and destroyed everything around it? Hey, what are you guys taking about?"  
  
"Grab everyone and follow me," instructed the Joe Dawson drone. His four drone companions turned toward the far end of the hall. "They have been sent to try contain the blast," he said as way of explanation as he led the group to one of the smaller auditoriums.  
  
"Blast?!?" Broots cried out loud. "What blast?"  
  
Kenny kicked Broots in the shin hard to get his attention. "Do you want to keep asking stupid questions until the blast happens or do you want to try get out of here?"  
  
Broots hobbled along in pain, but quickly followed after the drone. Thomas Magnum was already helping Chloe Sullivan get Clark Kent back on his feet. Lana Lang tried arguing against moving Clark but saw she wasn't being heeded she followed along but ceased voicing her frustrations.  
  
"Clark, can you get us out of here?" Chloe asked.  
  
"He's having enough problems standing right now, miss," commented Magnum. "But we'll al do our best to get everyone out of here."  
  
"Clark ?" Chloe asked again.  
  
Clark nodded wearily. "Just get me next to an outside wall. I'll make the hole for us."  
  
"Not necessary," interjected the Joe Dawson drone. The drone raised it's main weapon on it's left arm and sent out a beam of dark green energy that radiated on the far wall for three seconds before leaving a hole six feet wide and six feet high. "There is your egress. Go quickly."  
  
Kenny and Broots were the first to step out into the night air. They could see the lights of city sparkling in the distance. Also, they could make out a few black ops in the distance pointing weapons toward them. They didn't hesitate but contiued on out trying not to appear dangerous.  
  
Broots looked down at Kenny who was carrying the metal dog, K-9. "Hey, what happened to your machete?"  
  
Kenny just smiled. Not exactly an innocent smile, but a happy one just the same. "Man, I don't know what you're talking about?"  
  
Broots shook his head in disbelief to all that had happened. "I don't know what's going on at all anymore."  
  
"It's probably better that way."  
  
When they got near the black ops, Remington explained that a massive bomb was about to explode and that they needed to clear the area. The drones filing out caused more problems though with their hands up over their heads it was genuinely accepted that they were surrendering much to everyones relief. Joe Dawson led a group of twelve drones out when everyone began feeling the ground shake.  
  
*****  
  
SECOND FLOOR OF CONVENTION CENTER "We need to leave this building," Detective James Ellison, the group's current drone guide suddenly spoke up.  
  
"I thought that was what we are doing," Helen Tasker said.  
  
"Energies are being released below us that if you remain here you will not survive."  
  
"What kind of energies?" asked Lennie Briscoe.  
  
"Electrical for the most part, also temporal and quantum. Some of the energy is unlike any the Borg have ever come across." The drone went still as it appeared to be concentrating. It's massive weapon arm moved slowly back and forth in a similar manner to that of someone using a hand held metal detector. "Fascinating."  
  
Briscoe looked to the back of the line of people following them. Somewhere back there Lee Stetson had gone to check on something or other. Briscoe hadn't wanted to leave Helen to deal with the drone leading them alone so had reluctantly stepped forward to help her out even though it seems know that she was quite capable on her own. "Hey, Inspector Gadget. I thought you said we had to get out of here."  
  
Just then, Helen let out a shriek as she felt the floor move beneath her feet. The Ellison drone managed to keep her from falling but Briscoe had to steady himself against the wall. Others that were behind them also were trying to keep their footing.  
  
"Did you hear that?" Helen asked.  
  
"Heard it?" exclaimed Briscoe. "I sure felt it!"  
  
"No, I heard my name called."  
  
"The caller is coming up behind us," the drone simply said.  
  
"But-" Any questions she had left her as she saw her husband pushed past Rick and A.J Simon and one of his black ops team members. "Harry!"  
  
"Helen!" Harry swooped his wife up in a bear hug and planted a big kiss on her. "I thought we agreed on no more aircraft crashes," he chided her.  
  
"We agreed that YOU wouldn't be in any more aircraft crashes. We didn't say anything about me in aircrafts." Helen smiled flirtingly.  
  
"Lee said you were fine but it's good to see that for myself."  
  
"How did you get in here?" she asked.  
  
"Wouldn't a better question be how do we get out of here?" Briscoe asked snidely.  
  
"We go down the main staircase and out the front door," said a new drone they had come up to. "I find that that is usually the best way."  
  
"I like it," said Harry. "And just who are you? What is going on here? Lee mentioned something about a faction group helping everyone escape." He paused for a moment as recognition began to set in. "And aren't you the spokesman for you group, Brainiac?"  
  
"Too many questions for right now," said Lex Luthor. "But I'd be happy to answer all of your questions once everyone is safely outside."  
  
"I've wanted to do just that all night," commented Briscoe.  
  
Another tremor going through the building stilled Harry's initial questions. He, his wife, Briscoe and everyone else followed Lex and his drones to the main staircase. There they met up with more of Lex's drones which had been fighting Dverl's drones on the staircase. What remained of Dverl's drones could be seen spasming out of control as arcs of energy seemed to spill over them charring flesh and fusing metal.  
  
"Dverl is no longer a threat. He dies along with his drones," Lex said to answer their unasked questions. "Dverl had been connected to a power source that he could not contain. Or that would not allow him to contain it." Without further explanation Lex and the drones headed down first to clear the path.  
  
One of Dverl's drones twitching on the steps exploded without warning, killing a drone next to Lex and almost pushing the 'Brainiac' over the railing. Harry, Briscoe and the Ellison drone steadied Lex and kept him from falling over.  
  
"Things are a little more volatile than I had assessed," Lex said. "If we are to survive we must exit immediately." The ruler of the remaining drones continued down the stairs as if nothing had happened. The drone of Ellison similarly followed.  
  
"Well your welcome," snapped Briscoe.  
  
"Easy," said Helen calmingly. "We aren't out of this yet."  
  
On the main floor in her spot of cover, Guinin glowered at the remaining drones coming down the stairs. Admiral Paris had convinced her to not attack this second group of drones simply because they had been attacking the other group of drones. "The enemy of our enemy is our friend?" she muttered to herself. She didn't necessarily believe it so she was planning to stay back and watch to see how this incredible change of behavior panned out.  
  
Even Admiral Paris hung back with his son Tom. The only one willing to stand out in the open was Lennier. The Minbari stood at the very bottom of the steps, the katana hung loosely in his right hand. "What are your intentions?" he asked. The ground shook briefly but Lennier seemed as to have not noticed.  
  
"To get these people to safety," answered Brainiac, the head of the remaining Borg drones. The people in question began crowding up behind the drones as they hurried down the stairs.  
  
A small chime alerted them all to nearby elevator doors opening. Ambassador Scott hurried out pushing a food cart with Mark Gordon's out cold body draped over it. He lurched to a stop at the sight of the drones on the stairs. "Ah." He remembered in a moment what Duncan had said about there now being two groups of Borgs now, each with their own itinerary. "What do you want?"  
  
"To get these people to safety," Lex repeated.  
  
"Sounds good to me. Let's go!" He began pushing Mark toward the main door.  
  
"We still have to have a few things explained," Admiral Paris pronounced. "Like why the Borg is fighting against itself."  
  
"We are evacuating this building," Harry said, pushing past some of the drones. "I don't know what your group has to do with all this but there is some sort of explosion building up below us."  
  
"It's true," Scotty spoke up.  
  
"Then we will have to finish this outside," Admiral Paris agreed.  
  
The drones helped get the remaining people outside. They seemed especially interested in Galen and his apprentice who they helped carry out.  
  
'This isn't over,' Guinin said to herself as she hurried out herself. The floor was continually shaking under her now but she was more intent on the activities of the drones that anything else. Still they all made it out of the building before the real fireworks began.  
  
*****  
  
Author's notes Okay, I have to hurry and post this before catching a flight to Minnesota to visit my relatives for Christmas.  
  
I haven't had a chance to proofread this so there will be some mistakes. I'll fix them later. I just wanted to get this out for all my readers this Christmas. Remember to send reviews back and have a Merry Christmas everybody!  
  
Thinks to look forward to in my next posting: Is the Borg finished? (Dverl's group is, but what about Lex/Brainiac?) 


	14. finale

The small newborn volcano spit forth another volley of bright magma into the air catching it in its mouth and then sent it heavenwards yet again. At it's base it was only six thousand feet wide and covered or crushed all building and vehicles near it. Fires burned uncontrollably in various building up to a half a mile away from the young volcano. Fire trucks from throughout the Seacouver area struggled to get set up and help get the situation under control; many of the water pipe in the area had been destroyed so that the firefighters had to seek alternate water sources. Police aided people fleeing their homes and trying to keep traffic moving. Emergency triages were set up but fortunately did not have as many wounded victims to deal with as they had originally anticipated. And yet for all the destruction it had caused, the eruption itself had been very mild.  
  
In a small church near the Space Needle, other activities were underway. One activity in particular had the riveted attention of a man not born on this world. The techno-mage Galen watched carefully, with as much curiosity as concern, as the latest bBorg leader, who alternated between being called Lex Luthor and 'Brainiac', attached various tubes to Dureena Nafeel's nonresponding form. "That will remove the nanite devices," Galen said in observation. "But what about the damage to the body they will leave behind?"  
  
Lex continued his administrations to Dureena. "The nanites are being instructed to mend the biological damage done to Dureena's body as they exit her body." As chief Borg drone, Lex did not stand out from any of the other drones, as he had the same pale complexion, wore the same black leather-like body suit, and bore the same mechanized grafts throughout his body; however he was the only one to express emotions on his face. Currently he was showing surprise. "The nanites are not responding."  
  
"Are they harming her?" Galen asked with concern. Clark Kent, Mark Gordon, and Guinin, who had all been chatting quietly nearby while Lex worked now all stepped closer.  
  
"This requires a closer look." So saying, Lex raised his modified right arm over the reclining form of Dureena. Two devices on his arm moved in a rapid motion and then stopped suddenly. "My command to the nano-probes was over- rided," in monotone.  
  
Before he could learn anything else, Dureena's arm came up and firmly pushed Lex's augmented arm away. "That's not very gentlemanly," she admonished. Then she sat up and opened her eyes. Her skin was still pulsed with the quicksilver-like veins created by the nanites giving her an eerie pallor, but otherwise seemed unchanged in appearance. Before anyone could stop her she was on her feet.  
  
"Amazing things, these nanites," she remarked as she examined her arms and the nanite-created gray veins.  
  
"Dureena." Galen approached her carefully, making sure that she was truly in control of her faculties. "Dureena, are you..." his eyes checked over her form, looking for something to explain the sudden change in her. "What has happened to you?"  
  
She gave a smile of reassurance to her tutor. "I am fine. Better than ever, actually."  
  
Galen shot Lex a harsh glance. "Then let us proceed quickly to remove the nanites from your body before they decide to do anything else to you."  
  
"No," she said, holding up a hand. "That will not be necessary."  
  
Lex cocked his head to the side but said nothing; Galen was not so nonchalant. "You must not be of your right mind. The nanites must be controlling you."  
  
"Quite the opposite, in fact," she spoke.  
  
Clark, Mark and Lex stood in silent anticipation; not so could Guinin. "Listen to your teacher, the nano-probes have to be removed from your body. Nothing good will come from letting them stay inside your body even if you think that you have control over them."  
  
"Listen to her," Galen said. The techno-mage was coming more and more to realize that he might have to fight his student in order to rid her body of the microscopic-technological devices that were evidently influencing her. "Guinin has history with the Borg and their constructs. The Borg mechanisms must be studied carefully before anyone can use them."  
  
Dureena Nafeel held up a hand in defiance. "Do you think I learned nothing as your apprentice? I may not have asked for the nanites to tear through my body, but they did. And as I lay on the ground immobile, I eventually came to the conclusion that I should do something about my situation." She regarded the others that were listening as she continued. "I used the techno-mage connections in my mind to tap into the nano-probes in my body. To my surprise I found them waiting for instructions. Instructions that would never come since you managed to splinter the Borg Collective. So, with no alternative open to me at the time, I began learning how to communicate and control the nanites within my body."  
  
"You ... control the nanites?" Guinin stated in disbelief.  
  
"It could be possible," Galen said. His left hand brought forth a crystal ball from his robes. He held the glass item between himself and his apprentice and then let go. The crystal ball stayed in the air as Galen seemed to examine it. "The nanites do seem to be responding to her. But I would like to examine further before accepting them as a non-hazard." For this last part he looked up into his apprentice's eyes for approval before continuing.  
  
She sighed. "Very well," she concluded. From there she began explaining to her mentor some of the ideas she had for using the nanites with techno-mage technology. Galen nodded sagely from time to time to many of the ideas but for the most part he was focused on studying the interaction of the nanites on her physiology.  
  
"Well," said Clark, "I have a feeling that the rest of us have ceased to have existed as far as those two are concerned."  
  
Mark grunted in acknowledgement. "Definitely a strong father/daughter relationship there. Whatever it is they are working on I'm sure that they can work it out. We should leave them alone."  
  
The others agreed and left quietly out into the hall. Lex then led them toward the sanctuary, passing Oliver Sampson arguing with a number of the armed black operatives Harry Tasker had placed in and around the church. His companion, Sydney Bloom, and Pastor Powell were doing their best to mollify him. Upon seeing Lex coming toward them the armed men raised their weapons until Albert Gibson waved for them to let the drones and others pass unhindered. Clark stepped in front of his friend to help provide cover from any itchy trigger fingers. Tension muted even Oliver as the leader of the remnant of drones passed by them. Mark tisked, "Easy boys. The war is over and were all the good guys here."  
  
Lex, a gentleman even as a drone, held the sanctuary door for Guinin and the others to pass. The gesture did nothing to influence the attitude of Guinin toward the Borg, however. "So, Brainiac, or Lex if you prefer, how long will it take you to revert the remaining drones?" With a gesture she pointed to one of the drones that Lex had cleaning and mending Roger Murtaugh's body reclining on a nearby pew. Another drone, the one that had formerly been Detective James Ellison was servicing two injured drones a few feet away. On the far end of the room Byers, Frohike and Murray Bozinsky huddled near the reclining but attentive Langly as the former drone Wade Welles gave a descriptive homily of how a drone was put together while putting up with many interrupting questions.  
  
Closing the door behind him, Lex turned to face Guinin and the others. "And why should I give up any of my remaining drones?"  
  
Guinin immediately swung up her phaser rifle only to have had it shot out of her hand by one of the drones Ellison had been treating.  
  
"There is no need for hostilities," Lex said calmly, with a trace of a smile. "I do not plan to add anyone to the drones under my control. I just do not see the need to give up that for which I fought for."  
  
"Lex," Clark said, stepping toward his friend, "what are you doing?"  
  
"Keeping what is mine," he stated. "And I will fight for it if I have to." Lex made no threatening moves but then with his connections to his other drones in the room he didn't have to make any.  
  
Across the room the Lone Gunmen, Murray and Wade Welles turned their attention toward the conflict. The Ellison drone already had Wade Welles covered with his weapon appendage arm. This did not deter Wade from proceeding forward. "There is no need for hostility," she stated frankly.  
  
"The hell there isn't!" Guinin stated harshly. "Clark, stop your friend before anyone else gets hurt!" she commanded.  
  
Clark hesitated. "I'd rather hear what he has to say first. He deserves to be heard out first."  
  
"But what if that Grand Nagus Dverl has somehow taken control of him?" Mark asked.  
  
"I don't think that the case," Clark answered.  
  
"I concur," stated Wade Welles. "I am no longer part of the Collective but I can tell that Lex's pattern of behavior differs greatly from that of Dverl. I estimate that there is only a .0002743 percent chance that Lex is under Dverl's control or influence."  
  
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Lex replied.  
  
"I think it's best if you just explain why we should let you keep the other drones," Guinin said through gritted teeth.  
  
"Because it was only through my having the drones under my command absorb some of the excess energy from the quickening and using laser methods to relieve magma buildup while also cooling down the surface that kept the state of Washington from losing a majority of its coastal cities. Even now, forty-six drones are treating the newly formed volcano in order to keep from growing any further."  
  
"The damage to the city is already irreversible," pointed out Frohike from just to the side of Wade. "Nobody's going to want to do much living near a new volcano, not to mention commerce."  
  
"The I-5 highway linking up the cities along the coast is also going to have to be rerouted," Byers chipped in. "The Puget Sound will have to be investigated to see if the eruptions cause any sizable waves which would interfere with ferry travel and especially people living on the island in the Sound."  
  
"But you are forgetting about pollution, widespread fire throughout the area, and loss of life," added Murray.  
  
Langly, unable to contribute in his weakened condition, just nodded in agreement.  
  
"You are correct. This city is pretty much dead until it is proven that the volcano has gone dormant," admitted Lex. "But it would be worse if I stopped treating the volcano."  
  
"Is that a threat?" demanded Guinin.  
  
"Take it for what you will. If you take away my hands, then how can you expect me to help you?"  
  
"Then what about after you are done doing whatever it is you are doing to that volcano out there?" piped in Mark. "Will you turn them over then?"  
  
"They are mine," Lex stated. "I went through things you would never understand to piece together a small part of the Collective Mind for my drones and I to function on. I am not about to throw it all away now."  
  
"Lex," Clark said, hoping to appeal to his friend. "What about their friends and families? What about them? I'm sure they don't want to remain as they are."  
  
"A lot of people have died here tonight, Clark. A lot of people have lost loved ones. What is a few more?"  
  
Clark was aghast and didn't know what to say to his friend.  
  
"Lex," Mark said. "I know we have only just met. But we did get a chance to talk some." He waited for moment, weighing what he was about to say. "I just got to ask you, do you really want to prove yourself to your father so much that you would sacrifice the freedom of these people trapped as drones?"  
  
The young Luthor stood there silently for a moment. "You know how to get to the heart of the matter, Mark." The other drones in the room lowered their weapons at his silent command. "I can restore sixty-three drones to their previous unaltered selves-"  
  
"Leaving you with eight drones at your command," Guinin pointed out.  
  
Lex eyed the hostile El-Aurian. "You've been more attentive than I thought."  
  
"You have to be around the Borg," she snapped back.  
  
Clark stepped between them hoping to stop another argument before it had a chance to grow. "Lex, why are you keeping eight drones for yourself. Don't they deserve their freedom, too."  
  
"It's not that simple, Clark." Lex walked around his friend and past Wade. At the table where the Ellison drone had been working on the two drones he turned back to the group. "Detective James Ellison," he said, indicating the taller, sturdier drone, "and Joe Dawson," he said referring to the still drone on the table, "can both be restored to their previous lives. I even plan to replace Dawson's legs so that he can walk again." He turned to the last drone who had been covering the Lone Gunmen earlier. "Colt Seavers, however, cannot be restored."  
  
"And why would that be?" Guinin said, sounding dubious.  
  
"Because the power surge that the techno-mage Galen sent through the Collective fried his brain along with the brains of eight of the remaining drones."  
  
"I can verify that," Wade said. She scanned the unresisting drone and then concurred with Lex's statement. "It is true. The brain damage done to this drone is irreversible, though the drone can still function within operating parameters."  
  
"Well, what are you going to do with a dozen drones," Mark asked the question that everyone was wondering.  
  
Lex gave them a crafty smile. "For the most part, I plan to take them home and start my own company. Lex Corp or possibly Brainiac Inc. and give my father a real run for his money."  
  
"Ah," Mark thought of a matter he wished to address. "Doesn't that sound a little vindictive to you? I mean, I'm suppose to be helping you find path; get you on track with God and all that. Do you really think that the Big Guy would approve of something like that?"  
  
Lex laughed which startled Guinin. "You really haven't met my father. By taking over his company I'd probably be doing more good and helping more people than you would realize. Especially if I keep people like the Kents around to keep me down to Earth."  
  
Clark nodded his family's support. "You still have a problem, Lex."  
  
"And what would that be?"  
  
"Well, you don't exactly look like the typical businessman."  
  
"And how about now." Lex's form was highlighted briefly in light red before revealing Lex as he was before but wearing a suit and tie.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Hologram technology," Wade answered.  
  
"Exactly," Lex said. "And my eight drones will likewise be hologramed. And they will help me get Earth started on a new age of technology."  
  
"Ah, not to fast, Lex."  
  
"Relax, Clark. I have the insight of thousands of cultures and the impact that new technology has had on them. I plan to be very careful as to what I give to the public."  
  
Mark slowly came up beside Guinin. In a low voice he asked her, "So what do you think?"  
  
"It's a big mistake. He should be forced to revert to his normal self."  
  
Mark bit his lip. Lex and Clark continued their talk and were joined by Byers, Frohike, Langly and Murray Bozinsky who couldn't help wanting to check out the holographic projection. Murray also wanted to ask if Lex could help him rebuild the Roboz. "You may be right, Guinin. But at this point only time will tell."  
  
Guinin nodded. "That's what I'm afraid of."  
  
*****  
  
Just outside the church, Sheriff Barney Fife followed Dominic Santini around Airwolf. The pilot mumbled in frustration as he checked on the tarps that they were using to cover the helicopter with to protect it from volcanic ash. Already the ground had a two-inch thick layer of ash, which didn't seem to be slowing down on its accumulation. "If the ash gets in the intake valves I'll kill myself," gripped the pilot.  
  
"I just wanted to thank you again for taking me on that flight," Barney said.  
  
"Yeah. Sorry about the fire fight. Didn't know we were going to be attacked like that." He pulled an edge of the tarp away to reveal a scorch mark on the side of Airwolf. "Never seen anything do anything remotely similar to that before." He quickly placed the tarp back in position.  
  
"I thought Hawke said you to could get home through this?"  
  
"Yes, he did, and yes, Airwolf can get us home just fine." He grunted as he bent down and moved a rock on a lower section of the tarp to keep it from blowing loose. "But he's not the one that would be cleaning the valves and engine when we get home. I would be. So I say we stay right here for now."  
  
"Dominic?" Barney asked.  
  
"Yeah," he answered with his head under the tarp.  
  
"Your friends are calling for you."  
  
"Eh?" He stuck his head out. "What?" He looked over to where he was pointing. "Oh, yeah, I better go see what they want. Watch the tarp for me. I think the wind is picking up again."  
  
Dominic put a reassuring grasp on the handle of his sword that he had tucked under his jacket. He knew it was a silly gesture considering just who he was about to meet up with but he couldn't help it. He just didn't feel safe.  
  
Remington Steele had been off to the side of the group, turned off a cell phone and handed it back to Connor. "Thanks. Laura had been going out of her mind worrying about me."  
  
Connor MacLeod nodded as he tucked the phone into an inner pocket of his trench coat. "So you are meeting up with her?"  
  
Remington nodded. "We're going to try go south and catch a plane in Portland. The Sea-Tac planes can't fly in this."  
  
"Good luck with that," Santini volunteered. "I hear the roads are already jammed from people fleeing the area."  
  
"We'll manage," Remington said.  
  
"Was it really Methos?" asked a young boy that Santini had been introduced as Kenny.  
  
Connor's eyes narrowed. "Don't get any ideas." He reached over and put a protective hand on Duncan's shoulder. Duncan slumped in chair next to his clansman; his body was still recovering from the nanite and Borg components, the massive quickening, as well as from the volcano coming up underneath him. If Lex hadn't had the drones under his command pull Duncan out when he did, Duncan would have been ash. Currently, Duncan was struggling to keep a straw in his mouth as he worked on rehydrating himself with a large glass of ice water.  
  
"Hey, I was just asking," Kenny said defensively.  
  
"Hey, I have no problem taking your head just because you look like a kid." Connor's glare forced Kenny back.  
  
"Why are you being so hard on me? What did I ever do to you?"  
  
Duncan leaned down towards Kenny. "Let's just say that I don't like those that don't play fair."  
  
"And is it fair that I'm stuck in this adolescent body and still have to full grown Immortals like you?"  
  
"Life's not fair," stated the Scotsman. "But the Game has to be." He pointed out towards the volcano to emphasize his point. "Because the penalties are more than any of us wish to bear."  
  
The group was silent for a brief moment until Santini spoke. "I realize I just walked into something here, but ... what's with all the hostility?"  
  
"It's the Quickening," Remington answered. "It's starting."  
  
"That would explain why I feel a greater than normal need to challenge one of you," the pilot said, partially in jest but also in reflection. "I guess I joined the club just in time for the final rounds," he added, a little paler than when he arrived.  
  
"We won't be able to meet safely after this," Connor pointed out. "If we do ... there can be only one."  
  
Remington felt a slight shudder go up his spine at the thought of having to face one of these people in a sword fight to the death. "That's very ominous of you," he retorted.  
  
Connor just gave a good-natured grin. Trying to shake off the feeling that he would be experiencing his final death within the next few years, Santini turned and nodded to Duncan. "And what about your clansman? What do we do about him?"  
  
Duncan's head jerked up unsteadily. "I'll ... I'll be fine."  
  
Connor nodded. "I'll take him to a place I know that is on holy ground. He should be safe there until he fully recovers." He ruffled the younger clansman's hair playfully. "He may yet win the Game."  
  
Duncan just shrugged. "Or you might," he said weakly. "Regardless, like to see Joe ... before we leave."  
  
Connor shook his head while the others tried to look away from him. "'Fraid that's not possible. Joe has some recovering of his own to do," he said without going into further explanation.  
  
"Are you going to be able to guard him ... with out ..." Remington made a head chopping motion. "You know."  
  
Remington glared at the man for his lack of tack. "It's on holy ground so should be safe. Besides, Duncan should be up to full strength in less than a week. We should be able to bear each other for that long." He looked pointedly at Kenny. "And any vermin that feel compelled to seek us out for battle can easily be handled by myself."  
  
"Kenny," Duncan managed to say.  
  
Kenny had been looking at the ground, the only safe place to look at while in this company. His every instinct told him to turn and flee, but the oldest child in the world fought it back and stepped slowly towards Duncan. "What?" he said defiantly.  
  
"If you want," Duncan said, pausing to take a drink. "I could contact Amanda. You could have one last meeting with her. Before meeting with another Immortal becomes to dangerous."  
  
"Duncan," Connor started to say with concern, but Kenny was already shaking his head.  
  
"I don't think that's possible," Kenny answered back softly. Kenny couldn't believe this man was offering him a chance to reconnect with Amanda, his early mentor, who he had been separated from for centuries. His love, his child-like infatuation for Amanda, had only grown on a pedestal in her absence. Later finding her together with the perpetual Boy Scout, Duncan, Kenny had made another attempt on Duncan's life which caused Kenny to have to flee for his life after failing. Sure, she would have forgiven him especially after recent events. "The problem is I think I found a way out of the Game and I'm going to try it."  
  
Duncan actually sat up in surprise, spilling his drink, although it was Dominic that found his voice to speak. "Mind telling the rest of us." He looked around at the rest of the Immortals in the group. "We all might want to try, too."  
  
Kenny grimaced. "That's the problem. It wouldn't work if you come, too."  
  
"Then go, Kenny," Duncan said. "And may you find the peace you seek."  
  
Kenny's head dropped. "Thanks. And tell Amanda ... Tell her that I think about her all the time." He went to leave but then turned back one last time to the healing Immortal. "Oh, uh, sorry for the car bomb." Then he was gone, running away down the street like any other young boy or girl.  
  
They watched him go, the small figure shrinking in the distant, outlined slightly by the glow provided by the young volcano  
  
"I should go and take him now," muttered Connor. "End it once and for all."  
  
"No," Duncan said softly. "Give him his chance." The others parted with shaking each others hands. Each had matters that they wanted to look into. And while they may have felt like they had forever to do so, now these Immortals suddenly felt how short their time could be.  
  
*****  
  
Monica watched Kenny run down the street. "This is a unusual turn of events," she said to her companion.  
  
The tall, blond angel nodded. "Sometimes unusual people need unusual circumstances before they will consider changing their ways."  
  
"Will Kenny really be able to leave the Game?"  
  
"Yes," said Andrew. "I wish he could find peace, but I think he will be like my friend Methos; traipsing all over creation till he is thoroughly tired of this earthly existence."  
  
"We don't know that Kenny has that much time," Monica stated with concern.  
  
"You may have been appointed to watch over him for a time," he said to the younger angel. "But Kenny is no longer your concern. He is in God's hands now."  
  
Monica nodded. "At least he has been provided with a chance."  
  
"They all have. It's just up to him to choose."  
  
"Do you know yet how Kenny plans to get out of the Game?" asked the female angel.  
  
"No," admitted Andrew. "But he has always been very resourceful. Kenny has a good head on his shoulders and he has always done well at keeping it there."  
  
"Andrew, no more puns, please, you're killing me," Monica said with a chuckle.  
  
Andrew looked out at where the volcano stood when the Rosemont Convention Center had stood just hours before. A sadness seemed to fill his eyes. "I know many of them go to a better place, but I miss some of them."  
  
"You mean Methos?"  
  
"Yes," he nodded. "After five thousand years, I'd grown rather accustomed to his presence. For all his aloofness, I liked him." Andrew traced a line through a layer of ash on a nearby fence. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Those that live by the sword die by the sword."  
  
She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. The two angels stood there watching the morning sun touch the new volcano for the first time. In the distance sirens could be heard. A squirrel ran down a nearby oak tree to check out its new ash covered environment before racing back up to its nest. In the distance Monica and Andrew could see other angels going about their tasks. Soon they too parted to go about the business of their Lord.  
  
*****  
  
IN A CLASSROOM OF THE CHURCH Dana broke away from the kiss regretfully. "Mulder, we should talk about this."  
  
Nuzzling her neck, Mulder inquired, "Yes?" before taking her earlobe between his lips and sucking gently.  
  
With great reluctance, she pushed him back. "We really should talk about this. Skinner would have our hides if he knew we were getting involved."  
  
Mulder shrugged as he sat back in his chair. "Most everyone else back at the Bureau already believes we are," responded Mulder, watching her as she leaned back on a hard metal chair.  
  
"All these years of me tearing down your crazy theories ... and you turn out to be right. I'm sorry for doubting you."  
  
"Don't be," he said. "You were one of my catalysts. You challenged me. Made me search harder than ever for evidence to prove myself. I should be the one thanking you. In a way you supported me even when you didn't believe in my theories."  
  
"You worked well together."  
  
Both federal agents jumped. Neither had heard anyone enter. As a matter of fact, Mulder was sure he had locked the door upon entering, and yet there stood Tess, the security guard from the Rosemont Center, right in front of the white board at the front of the room.  
  
"What are you doing here, Tess?" asked Dana, more than a little embarrassed, having assumed that the woman had to have seen her and Mulder making out.  
  
Ignoring the question, Tess Began, "Big changes are coming and you two will play a essential part."  
  
"And this would involve a security guard how exactly?" Mulder asked.  
  
"I am more than a security guard," Tess answered. A light seemed to shine on her from above.  
  
"You're an alien!" Mulder said excitedly.  
  
"No, Fox Mulder. While I am an alien to this world, I am not an alien in the manner than you have been searching for."  
  
"You ... you are an angel," Dana said, speaking this realization out loud.  
  
"Yes," Tess said. "And I've come here to let you in on a number of things, so pay attention."  
  
Dana took Fox's hand as they sat and listened. Even the usually suspicious Mulder could not doubt the angelic presence before them.  
  
"Normally, people don't get this much of a heads up on things. This Borg encounter has forced the revealing of your ominous little gray men. The technology taken from the fallen drones will enable the people of Earth to fight them off, as well as make contact with other alien races, some of which are already visiting your planet. You two will be the ones making those contacts."  
  
"Tess, my sister..."  
  
"Your sister is dead, Fox." Tess watched the tears well up in his eyes. "The clones of Samantha were used by the Smoking Man to mislead and confuse you. He wanted to goad you to frustration until he could turn you into a tool for his own use." Her tone lightened. "She is in a better place now. Let that ease your heart, at least."  
  
Mulder said nothing, numbed by the experience. "At least I know now. That's something."  
  
"You need to let it go so you can move forward," advised the angel. "You two will have a lot on your plates from here on out. Your expertise will be sought after. You need to find allies that you can teach and work with." She paused to look at the two mortals before her. "You two are good together."  
  
Dana blushed and soon found Fox's hand in hers. "It's a little early yet to say we are together," she stated. "But I hope it does," she said, stealing a look at her partner. "But if it does get serious, he's getting rid of the porn," she said decisively.  
  
Tess nodded. "It won't be easy for him. But pornography causes more problems for relationships than people like to admit."  
  
Mulder bit his tongue. He had had discussions about his porn collection with some of the women who had come in and out of his life; most had been ambivalent. But he had never imagined having to defend his 'habit' before an angel. Perhaps it would be better to talk about this later. "So ... you're an angel. So what's God like?" he asked hoping he could change the subject.  
  
"You start behaving and you might find out." The angel with the enigmatic smile then faded until only Mulder and Scully were left in the room.  
  
"That was..."  
  
"Out of this world," interrupted Mulder. "I don't think I've had an angelic x-file proved to me before."  
  
Dana just laughed. Mulder leaned over and pulled her into a hug. He needed that contact just then. To find that after so many years of searching that his sister was actually dead ... he felt both saddened and relived at the same time. Sad that he could never rescue her and glad that whatever torment she was undergoing was over.  
  
It wasn't until then heard a quiet cough that they realized that they weren't alone again. There in the now open doorway stood Lennier trying to be obvious about his embarrassment. "Ah, I beg your pardons, agent Mulder, agent Scully. I've been asked by Agent Tasker to inquire if you would join him in a strategy meeting of great importance."  
  
"Uh, it's Lennier, right?" Fox had introduced Dana to the Minbari earlier with much jubilance. While she could explain the bony protrusion on the back of Lennier's head as a result of a possible mutation, a closer biological exam of Lennier's physiology revealed he was not at all Human.  
  
Lennier nodded politely to the female Federal Agent. Mulder just chuckled and took her hand, following as Lennier lead them down the hall. "I'm not giving up my collection," Mulder said in a hushed tone to his partner.  
  
"Sure you are," she said with a flirting tone. "You just don't want to admit it to yourself yet."  
  
Mulder felt a sinking feeling that she was right. He didn't want to admit it but he knew that there was no other way she'd accept him. So it was bye- bye porno; hello relationship. Besides, it's one thing to argue with a woman you were in love with, it's quite another to disagree with a angel of God. Mulder shook his head and grinned. "I suddenly understand the saying, 'she has her hooks in you'."  
  
"Would you rather be 'catch and release' because we can 'cut the line' right now?" she replied with other fishing colloquialisms.  
  
A pained look crossed Mulder's face. Silently he mouthed no. Gently he pulled her to him and kissed he deeply.  
  
"I have not seen many Human relationships," commented Lennier, bringing back both Fox and Dana to the here and now. "Is yours typical for most Humans? If so, I have a number of questions I would like to ask you."  
  
The two agents broke apart, startled by Lennier as well as their own behavior. "Nope. We're definitely not typical."  
  
"A pity," Lennier said. "I was hoping you could explain a 'relationship' I once knew of." Before either of the agents could inquire about his statement, Lennier turned and continued down the hall. At the far end he opened a door.  
  
The room was obviously Pastor Powell's office as well as the church's boardroom for meetings. From the obvious architecture it was apparent that the room had been remodeled in recent years to expand its once narrow space to a much more spacious room. The center of the room had a large oval wooden table placed there. The pastor's desk and four large bookshelves occupied the far end of the room leaving a tight fit for the number of people already in the room.  
  
Mulder, Scully and Lennier entered quietly but had obviously been waited for as Harry Tasker stood up to address the group. His wife, Helen, sat next to him and turned on a tape recorder sitting on the table so that everybody would know that the conversation was being taped. "You are probably all wondering why I called you here."  
  
"To orchestrate a cover-up over all that happened here tonight," Mulder stated. Next to him Dana let out a tired sighed.  
  
Lee Stetson, known by some in the group under the alias 'Scarecrow', locked eyes with the Federal Agent. "Here him out, Agent Mulder."  
  
Garak stepped up briefly. "I think you should hear him out, Fox Mulder. You may be very surprised if you do."  
  
"Thank you, Garak." Harry had taken a liking to the reptile humanoid. A short talk with the alien had helped him visualize a plan to turn this disastrous situation around. He had already consulted his immediate superiors and received their approval. Now it was a matter of recruiting the right people. "Yes, there will be some cover-up at first."  
  
"You people did the same thing in Roswell, New Mexico. Hiding evidence of a UFO crash in Area 51 where-"  
  
"I know nothing of Area 51, Agent Mulder, except for a few things mentioned in the tabloids. That type of information is what I am hoping that you and Agent Scully will be able to examine and confirm for me."  
  
"Pardon my partner," Dana said, "but if I can keep my partner quiet long enough perhaps you could tell us what you want from us." She looked around the room at various people there. "I think we'd all like to know what is going on."  
  
"The question that we are not alone has been answered," Harry said. "The associates of Mulder's cigarette smoking friend are coming forward with all kinds of evidence. Evidence that seems to indicate that we may be walking into the front lines of a secret war that most of mankind had not even been aware was being fought."  
  
He held his hands up to get everyone to settle down. "Easy people, you'll get more information on this when I do. But we do have an ace in the hole. Though much was destroyed by the volcano, we still were able to recover some of the machinery of the Borg."  
  
"And that's why you want us to keep the Borg attack quiet," Amanda asked rhetorically. "So that we can have time to figure out how the technology works."  
  
"But the Borg have technology like even Steven Spielberg has never dreamed of," spoke a young blond woman.  
  
"What Sydney is trying to say," said a curt man, "is that you will need people specialized in taking apart delicate pieces of machinery to understand how it works. And I have those people. Send the dead drones and whatever other machinery you were able to salvage with me and I will get you reports as to how it all works as soon as I can."  
  
Harry shook his head at Oliver Sampson. "It's not going to happen, Sampson. You are only here as a courtesy to Sydney. She was hoping that you might want to join a more humane group. You know as well as I do that as soon as your superiors had the Borg technology that they would have no more use for this group or any other. They have their own plans for domination."  
  
Oliver regarded Sydney coldly. The young blond woman merely hung her head. Harry nodded to his friend, Albert Gibson, who had Oliver rise to his feet and leave the room escorted by two more of Harry's men. Oliver said nothing as he was taken away, but took a moment to glare into the face of anyone who was willing to look him in the eye.  
  
"I'm sorry for that," Sydney began. "He can be very-"  
  
"You know as well as I do, Ms. Bloom, that he would have taken everything we had and would not have helped us at all."  
  
"I understand they situation," Sydney said, sadness obvious on her face. "I pledge myself and my abilities to helping mankind, if that is what you want?"  
  
"It's what we want from everyone," Helen said consolingly.  
  
"Well," Dana said thoughtfully, "I know a couple of guys in the sanctuary you might want to consult on the technology. Byers, Frohike and Langly."  
  
"Though they are not fans of government conspiracies or the military," added Mulder, who was rather surprised at Dana's recommendation.  
  
"The Lone Gunmen," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I've heard of them. Our daughter gets their newsletter."  
  
"If I explained it to them," Dana went on, "I think they would be willing to set aside their differences they have with people like you long enough to make this work."  
  
"Conspiracy theorists are not the most trustworthy people to have working for you," pointed out Lee.  
  
"They have Murray Bozinsky with them right now," she added.  
  
"The 'Boz'? The robot specialist?" Harry looked at his wife. She shrugged her shoulders letting him know that it was his decision. "Talk with them. Let them know that this deal is for real. And that they have to keep it quiet."  
  
Dana nodded. Mulder just shook his head. He knew in the end both sides would come to him and his partner to gripe about each other but what could he do. "You might also want to try recruit those swordsmen that were going up against the Borg earlier. They were very impressive and fearless," Dana said.  
  
"I'll look into it," Harry said noncommittally.  
  
"If you don't mind, I'd like to volunteer my knowledge to the group," spoke up a large older man.  
  
"I think we are only here as consultants," spoke up Garak, who seemed surprised by the older man. "Admiral Paris would not want us to get too involved."  
  
"These people need more than a consultant that is only going to be here a few hours. They need someone who already has a working knowledge of the technology that the Borg works with or they won't be able to diddle." He stood up to his full height. "My name is Montgomery Scott. And I will give this group my allegiance if you will have me."  
  
"But Commander Scott-" Garak began.  
  
"No. I've been wandering around the Federation these last few years after getting free of the transporters that I had been trapped in for almost a century. And do you know what I found?" he said, pointing the question at Garak. "That I had been left behind. That I had become antiquated. That there was almost no place for me. Someone like me needs to be needed. And as an engineer I am needed here. I can advance their space program so fast that in five years they could have permanent habitats built on Mars." Having said his part he leaned back and crossed his arms, showing that his decision was final.  
  
"Fine by me," Garak said. "But you get to be the one telling Admiral Paris that you're staying behind."  
  
"I suppose you want me to offer Airwolf into the pot," Stringfellow Hawke said.  
  
"Something like that. Actually I was hoping that with this new technology that we could try boost Airwolf's capabilities. Eventually we will master the Borg technology enough to replace Airwolf and you can-"  
  
"Replace Airwolf?!?" stammered Stringfellow. "Airwolf is a one of a kind vehicle. You just don't replace something like that."  
  
"Perhaps Airwolf will always be necessary," Amanda said. "But we will still need a pilot to test out new technology we use on aircrafts."  
  
"Can you recommend a pilot for technologically advanced aircraft?" Helen asked.  
  
"I'm a pilot, and I'll test what ever you want me to test. I'm just saying that Airwolf is not going to be put out to pasture."  
  
"Agreed," Harry said, and the two men shook on it. Harry turned to the man sitting next to Stringfellow. "And what about you?" Harry asked a very quiet Frank Parker. "Can we expect you and the mysterious Project: Backstep to join forces with us?"  
  
Frank had been sitting in a corner resting his wounded shoulder contemplating everything. "It's not my call to make. But let me talk to my people. I think they will want to talk to your people."  
  
"We need this to remain a secret," reminded Harry.  
  
"Hey, my people are very good at keeping secrets. You still don't know what Project: Backstep actually is do you?" he pointed out. "And you people make it a point to try to know everything."  
  
"Talk to your people then." He handed him a piece of paper with a phone number on it. "Call me. I'd like to know what they could offer."  
  
Frank turned gingerly to Stringfellow. "So you think you can give me a lift down south?"  
  
Stringfellow shrugged. "Depends on my co-pilot. He's really not liking all this volcanic ash and what it would do to Airwolf." The two men talk quietly to themselves yet kept an ear out to keep in touch with what was going on.  
  
"And what can I offer this team?" Gil asked. Grissom leaned forward in anticipation as Harry let Lee Stetson take over.  
  
"We have acquired a dead drone that was not Human. We were hoping that with your investigative skills that you could help us understand how the implants that the Borg used differ from those used on Humans, and thus start building a basis for studying alien lifeforms and understanding the environments they must had originated from."  
  
"I am not specialized in forensics," Gil said reluctantly. "I could recommend some people if you want."  
  
"No, you'd be the head man, at least for now. We want you to gather a team to work with. But you should know that the subject we want you to work on is a five foot eight feline humanoid."  
  
Grissom's eyebrows rose. "I'm interested."  
  
"Sounds like it could be a Caitian to me," volunteered Scotty. "I worked with one on the Enterprise. M'ress was a beut'. Soft golden fur, feisty personality, she had a soft throaty purr when she talked and when she was very excited she would meow." A distant warm look crossed his eyes, and more than a few other men in the room also seemed distracted by the description as well.  
  
"Excuse me," Helen interrupted before her impatient looking husband could. "Perhaps Mr. Grissom could consult with you about the, uh, normal non- Borged physical aspects of a – um, 'cat person' are?" Scotty nodded his  
  
"I know someone who would like in on that project," said the man sitting across from Grissom. "Claire, you want in on this, right?"  
  
Claire showed embarrassment but quickly agreed that see was intrigued by the challenge to deborg a dead giant insect and try determining what it was like in its own environment. "As long as I can still keep tabs on Hobbes," she told Tasker and Stetson.  
  
Tasker nodded. Hobbes had chosen to reveal his new abilities to Harry and Lee in order to get them to help him and Claire sanctuary from their former boss, Charles 'The Official' Borden. "You'll both be real assets to the group."  
  
"You're darn right we will be," commented Hobbes. "Wish Darien had made this gig," he said in a more melancholy tone. "Going against alien invaders and taking on terrorist groups. He'd have been up for that."  
  
Claire held Hobbes hand tightly. Hobbes slumped in his seat in exhaustion. "He just had some major surgery," Claire explained. "He should be fine if he just sits here quietly." She looked Hobbes in the eye and repeated the 'quietly' part to him.  
  
"Mr. Tasker," a polite voice spoke up. "You seemed to have not addressed a very important part of these proceedings."  
  
Everyone turned to Lennier, whose evidently nice Minbari robes had been ripped and dirtied in the melee with the Borg, he himself conducted himself humbly and courteously.  
  
"And what is that?"  
  
"An ambassador."  
  
"To the gray men?" piped up Mulder. "They want to conquer us. They only talk to us when they want to get us to turn against each other."  
  
"I do not mean to your adversaries," explained Lennier. "But there must be some other alien races out there that you can contact. Perhaps even build an alliance. I am sure that these gray aliens you describe must have enemies that are wary of their activities on your planet."  
  
"You may have something there," Harry said. "I don't know who we'd get to represent Earth but I can get people started looking for likely candidates." Mentally, Harry planned to put Lee and Amanda's name on that list of candidates. Better to have someone you now and trust at the most critical area than someone you don't know at all.  
  
"Your ambassador will also need an aide," said Lennier. "I have worked for an ambassador before for many years. I am familiar with the problems and pitfalls of interacting with a foreign culture. The surprises that interacting with other species can bring. It would be my honor to help an Earth ambassador to establish contact with other races. And hopefully allies as well."  
  
Harry and Lee exchanged glances. "I thought you were returning to a parallel universe where you came from," Lee said.  
  
The Minbari lowered his head. "There is nothing for me there. But here I can be of service. Possibly atone for past mistakes as well." He stared hard at Lee for a moment before looking away and shaking his head.  
  
"Something wrong," Lee asked.  
  
"Just an uncanny resemblance," the Minbari said. To himself, the resemblance Lee had to John Sheridan reassured him that he was definitely on the correct path of atonement.  
  
*****  
  
"The resemblance is uncanny," Bashir remarked with amazement.  
  
"That's what I was trying to tell you," Tom said, brimming with pride at this discovery. He sat down on the picnic table under the pavilion. Nearby paramedics were putting the last of the bandages on some minor wounds. There had been few fatalities of people rushing away from the slowly rising volcano, but a number of injuries had occurred, especially by those fleeing on bicycles being hit by those fleeing in vehicles. Julian stepped right in using a park pavilion as a ready-made triage. By the time the ambulance paramedics arrived most of what they could do was organize the patients for the Starfleet doctor and be amazed at what he and his equipment could do. One ambulance driver even called a few of his fellow drivers to have their transport patients brought there. By the time the sun began to rise, Julian's patients coming in began to subside giving Tom a moment to pull the man aside.  
  
"What's all this about?" an older dark-haired man with a speckling of gray asked. "Who exactly do we remind you of and why is it so important?"  
  
"Actually you don't resemble anyone I know, detective," Tom Paris answered. "But your wife, she has an exact likeness of my captain."  
  
"Captain?" Kate Columbo repeated. She looked up and down at his spandex uniform. "Are you in the military or something?"  
  
"Something like that. I come from an alternate future where Earth helped form a Federation of Planets. Our military is called Starfleet. It also double as a exploration and research group," he explained. "And your wife, Kate, resembles my Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager."  
  
"Starship?" asked her husband.  
  
"Are you saying that this Captain Janeway is a descendant of mine?"  
  
"Um, no." Tom looked over to the doctor. "Care to try explain it to them?"  
  
Bashir looked up from the reading he had been taking. "Oh, yes, we're both from a parallel universe that is similar to yours but different. We are also from the twenty-fourth century so we are also from the future so you should not at all be related to Captain Janeway." He glanced down at his medical tricorder. "And yet you have the same retina patterns, thumb prints and bio-rhythm patterns."  
  
"Well, what does that mean, doc?" asked Detective Columbo.  
  
"I have no idea," he admitted. "But it is very fascinating."  
  
"What about us then?" asked a gruff fellow that Bashir had brought along. "I suppose he and I also resemble someone from wherever it is that you are from?" he said referring to the fellow next to him.  
  
"Yes, you do actually," the doctor said taking in the startling resemblance. "My Captain, actually. Captain Benjamin Sisko of Deep Space Nine, a orbiting space station over Bajor. If I didn't know better I'd say you were him now playing a part on the holodeck."  
  
"A holo-what?" Det. Columbo asked.  
  
"A stage. For acting on. Great special effects," Tom explained.  
  
"And I also look like someone you know?" asked T.J. Hooker.  
  
"Ah ..." Bashir looked to Tom for help in fielding this question.  
  
"Not so much as know in person, sir, but know about," Tom said.  
  
"And this great-looking person was also a captain of some space ship, I assume?" inquired Hooker.  
  
"Ah ... at one time he was a captain. Captain James T. Kirk of the Enterprise. The most famous starship captain Starfleet ever had. Made Admiral. Then ... well history gets a little complex after that but general belief is that he died."  
  
"And did these captain versions of us fight the Borg too?" demanded Hawk.  
  
"Uh, just Captain Janeway, I believe," Tom said.  
  
"Excuse me. Pardon me," Det. Columbo said, stepping forward while scratching his head. "But what's the connection?"  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Julian.  
  
"Well, my Kate and these two gentlemen seem to be impossibly similar to the people you know. There has to be a connection. That type of coincidence should be impossible for happenstance."  
  
The group mulled this over for a time but none could come up with a reason for the similarities.  
  
*****  
  
Jarod padded the side of the ambulance as it pulled out. He managed to deliver yet another baby into the world at the wonder of it still amazed him. The mother was a young Hispanic woman whose contractions were brought on by the sudden stress of having to flee from a volcano in the middle of the night. While the labor had been hard and short, Jarod could not see any long-lasting consequences. Thomas Magnum, A.J. and Rick Simon had all helped out and ran for all the things that Jarod had asked them to get. The young mother's older brother had offered them all a drink and the guys had all gone with him up to his apartment to have at least one drink to sooth their nerves.  
  
"Surprised you stuck around," said a voice over Jarod's shoulder. "I thought you'd be halfway to Portland by now."  
  
"Hello, Catherine." Looking back he saw that she had gotten her purse back, which meant that she had the gun inside available to her as well. "You should know by now that I can't leave people in need. I am the good guy after all."  
  
"I'm not sure there are any good people any more."  
  
"Your mother was one," pointed out Jarod, wiping his hands on a discarded newspaper. Behind her in the distance, Jarod could see Broots animatedly describing his ordeal to Sydney. Neither Broots nor Sydney saw them and they continued down a side street.  
  
"Well at least they are all right," Catherine commented, seeing what had caught Jarod's attention.  
  
"I'm glad you are all right, too."  
  
"And now you just leave?" she said.  
  
"Got to stay a step ahead of the big, bad Centre."  
  
She stood still in contemplation. "Were you really coming back to save us?"  
  
"Of course," he answered. "Haven't I come to your rescue before?"  
  
"Why leave clues as to where we can next find you?" she asked, changing the subject. "Do you get a kick out of making fools of us?"  
  
"As you look for me, you find out more of yourself and the Centre that you work for. I believe once you have a full understanding of everything that the Center has done to your life that you won't be able to keep working for them."  
  
"So you think that I should just abandon my father?"  
  
"In many senses of the term he has already abandoned you." He held out his hand to her. "Come with me. We'll explore the world of Las Vegas. There is an Elvis convention next week. I want to try get the feel for why all the people feel the need to dress up like him."  
  
"And how would I explain that to the Centre?"  
  
"Just say that you were trying to get more familiar with your subject." He kept his hand out to her and smiled.  
  
Catherine continued giving him a cold look, then burst out laughing. "Why not. My brother was telling me that I needed to loosen up though I'm sure this is not what he meant."  
  
*****  
  
The Doctor hurried down the sideway, K-9 tucked under one arm and his Companion Leela easily keeping pace with him. Leela looked warily at the empty streets and the shaded alleys that hid from the rising sun. Most people had already left for a safer area, but some stragglers were either reluctant to leave their homes or were looking for a chance to loot those that had. Leela had already strong-armed two street thugs trying to rob a middle aged lady trying to load up her Volvo. The National Guard and Coast Guard were already setting up barricades in the area surrounding the volcano. Troops coming up from Fort Lewis Army Base and McChord Airforce Base in Tacoma were just arriving in the outskirts of the city were trying to keep traffic moving smoothly out of the surrounding area.  
  
"Doctor, how are the Kryptonian and his friends going to get home?" Leela asked.  
  
"They're staying. At least for a while."  
  
"I don't understand. What do you mean?"  
  
The Doctor sighed. "Lex is staying because he has to revert most of the drones back to their regular state. He is also currently keeping the volcano from erupting more than it has. With him holding all the cards, so to speak he talked Q into giving he and his friends a few weeks stay until they return home. For his part, Clark also wants to help. And since no one knows Clark here, he feels he can openly use his powers here to aid people."  
  
Leela looked around at the ash-covered streets. "These people need help. What of the girls?"  
  
The Doctor shook his head. "They're helping where they can. Last I saw Clark had them watching over various children that had gotten separated from their parents." The Doctor pushed open the door to Sarah's Espresso and Snack Shack, which had remained as they had left it.  
  
"I'm surprised no one returned to lock up," tisked the Doctor absently while digging through his pockets for the keys to the TARDIS. "Well, let us be off, shall we?"  
  
"Do you have room for one more?"  
  
Before the Doctor could respond, Leela stepped between the Doctor and the speaker. "Leela, who is ...?" he started as he pushed his self-proclaimed bodyguard aside, before coming to a speechless halt. "Oh, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Looking to hitch a ride with you," Kenny explained. The young Immortal was sitting in a booth next to where the TARDIS had materialized and had been eating a large helping of peach cobbler as he waited. "Leela says that you take on traveling companions from time to time. I was hoping you'd give me a try," he said in a quiet voice.  
  
The Doctor knew full well that there was more to Kenny's wanting to go with the Doctor than to just travel. But on the other hand Kenny had mentioned being about a thousand years old and it had been a long time since he had spend any real time with someone closer to his own age. "I accept. But you should know that there are certain rules you should know about the TARDIS," he began as he opened the TARDIS' door. "First of all do not touch the console. Unless I instruct you to-" The door closed and shortly thereafter the faded from this particular universe.  
  
*****  
  
Author's Notes  
  
Finally, the close for this universe. Would have happened earlier if I hadn't had computer problems. My next story will begin shortly and be focused in Australia. Anyone want to guess as to the crossovers? 


End file.
